But it’s also empty.
I follow Declan and the others in, and we look around. A small kitchen sits off to one side of the living room—also empty, and neat, aside from two half-filled water glasses on a small wooden dinette table—and to the other side is a hallway that evidently leads to the bedroom.
“Hari?” Declan says, voice just slightly raised.
Kyan gestures in the direction of the bedroom. “Maybe one of you ladies should check. If she’s in her bedroom, she might not be too happy with a bloke barging in on her.”
I nod and step forward, clenching my fingers into my palms so that the others won’t notice my slight tremble. Other than the unlocked front door, nothing seems off about the apartment, but that horrible feeling in my stomach just won’t leave.
I finally reach her closed bedroom door.
“Hari, you in there?” I call gently.
I twist the doorknob, edging the door open to take in a cramped carpeted room occupied almost entirely with a dresser and a double bed, on which lies a figure on her side, facing away from me. I take in the faded blond hair, the long tanned legs pulled up to her chest. And I sigh, relief flooding through me.
Hari always could sleep through just about anything.
I get to the bed in two steps, feeling the others behind me in the doorway, and reach out my hand. “Hari, wake up,” I say, my voice unnaturally childlike.
She’s wearing a cropped T-shirt and a pair of baggy boyfriend jeans. An odd choice of clothing to nap in, but who am I to judge?
I reach for her shoulder, feeling the cotton of her shirt, and give her small shake.
Nothing.
“Hari, come on,” I urge, trying again.
I steal a glance back at Ellery, whose wide eyes stare at me curiously.
I shift my hand to touch her bare arm at the same time I say, “Hari, you have to—”
As soon as my fingers make contact with her skin, I jolt back, as if burned.
“Cold,” I say to nobody in particular. It’s the only word that rings through my mind. “Why is she cold?”
But my touch was enough to send Hari rolling from her side onto her back. And then I see it, that face I knew so well. Her high cheekbones, now even more pronounced, her cheeks cavernous and blue-tinged. Her rosebud lips coated with dried vomit.
But I don’t focus on those. All I can see are her green eyes. Open wide and staring into nothingness.
10
Phoebe
Then
In retrospect, I should have gotten up half an hour ago when Claire first tried to wake me. By the time we get to the dorm’s rec room for our Adventure Abroad orientation, Claire and I are ten minutes late.
Once we pull open the heavy door, the rumble of air-conditioning floods our ears. The room looks like it hasn’t been updated in decades. A projector hangs from one wall, and pool and air hockey tables are squished into a corner. A combination of beat-up couches and an odd pairing of random recliners and fold-up chairs, almost all of which are occupied, decorate the middle of the room. The others look a bit worse for wear, but at least they all managed to show up on time. Ellery’s face is slightly green beneath her heavy makeup, Kyan is wearing sunglasses despite the low overhead light, and Hari manages only a small smile as we enter. The only one who looks immaculate is Adrien. Of course.
A voice booms from the man standing next to Hari. “Oi, you’re late.” He’s the largest person in the room by far, both in height and weight, and he’s wearing an impressive scowl. A huge, bushy red beard extends from his chin, complemented by shoulder-length ginger hair tied back in a ponytail. An Australian Hagrid, with all the size and none of the kindness.
I suddenly feel trapped beneath his anger and the others’ attention, and I feel my flight-or-fight instinct kick in. I settle on the latter option.
“So sorry about that,” I say, my voice saccharine. “But I promise you, we’re worth the wait.”
I glance over at Kyan, who smirks, and I feel a ripple of victory as Claire and I sit in the two fold-up chairs next to the couch where he is. I feel a prickle of irritation that Adrien managed to grab the spot on his other side.
“Well, aren’t we lucky,” Australian Hagrid says, sarcasm dripping from his rangy accent. “Just the type of humility I appreciate in my students.” He clears his throat. “As I was saying before that littleinterruption,my name is Nick Gould. I’m the faculty member at Hamilton College who’ll be leading this expedition. And this here is Harriet, my teaching assistant. She’ll be accompanying us over the next month.”
