She Was the Quiet One

The new part of the dining hall, known simply as the New, was a soaring, modern space, all glass and white walls, with brightly colored flags hanging from the high ceilings (Odell had students from thirty countries). Giant photos of local flora decorated the walls. To Rose, the New looked like some space-age art gallery with tables. As they walked in, a warm buzz of conversation washed over Rose, and her heart lifted. Bel was here somewhere in the crowd. Rose wanted to find her, to gush to her twin about this amazing place. She searched the crowd as she followed Emma to the food line, but didn’t see Bel.

She noticed something else interesting, however.

“What’s that writing on the walls?” Rose asked Emma.

“The names of every graduating senior are carved on the panels.”

“Since when?”

“Going back, like, to the beginning of time. This is the new part of the dining hall, but if you go to the Commons, where they have the formal dinners, you’ll see names dating back to the early 1800s.”

“Seriously? My father and grandfather went here. Do you think I could find their names?”

Emma looked impressed. “Of course, you just need to know their class year. I had no idea you and Bel were legacies. She never mentioned it.”

“Oh, Bel doesn’t care about that sort of thing.”

“Not care? That’s crazy. My parents grew up in Korea, and even they knew Odell. Once my name gets carved on the wall, I’m not letting anybody forget it.”

They got their food, and made a beeline for a table where some other sophomore girls from Moreland were sitting. Apparently, students sat by class year. Seniors rated the best tables, farthest from the glass doors that admitted cold blasts of air during the bitter New Hampshire winters, closest to the food line. Emma told Rose to never, ever try to sit there. They would chase you away, your name would be mud. Freshmen were relegated to the outskirts, to an area they called Siberia. The other grades filled in the middle. Kids in the fast, popular crowd tended to sit at coed tables, whereas your normals were more likely to sit single-sex, like the Moreland table they were at now.

Skyler was at the Moreland table, sitting next to a girl named Lucy Ogunwe, who ran track and sang in the choir, and was in Rose’s civics class. There were girls Rose recognized, and others she hadn’t met yet. Emma introduced her around, but the glow of welcome was diminished by a flicker of worry when it hit home that Bel wasn’t here. Bel was nowhere to be seen, in fact. At their old school, when Bel didn’t show up to lunch, it usually meant she was ditching.

Toward the end of lunch period, a loud whoop went up from the tables where the seniors sat, and Rose turned to look. A muscular boy with a prominent forehead was wiping a gob of whipped cream from his face while kids around him laughed.

“You’re gonna regret that,” he said, his loud voice carrying in the sudden quiet.

Darcy Madden, identifiable by her bright blond hair, stood beside him, doubled over laughing. The boy grabbed Darcy and smeared the gob of whipped cream on her face. Darcy squealed, then struggled and broke loose, and the two of them ran from the room.

“That’s like something that would happen in my school in L.A.,” Rose said. “Lunch was out of control there.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not normal here. That was Darcy, the one I warned you about, and her boyfriend, Brandon. Those two really push the envelope. Disruptive behavior can get you demerits, you know. The teachers don’t look happy.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Do you see your sister?”

“What? Where?”

“She’s sitting right there,” Emma said, nodding toward the table Darcy had fled from.

Rose following Emma’s gaze and saw Bel, who was fully ensconced, chatting and smiling like she’d known those people forever.

“Oh. That’s where she went.”

Rose was actually relieved to see Bel in the lunchroom. At least she wasn’t off in the woods somewhere, ditching school. But Emma apparently didn’t see it that way.

“Like I was telling you last night,” Emma said, “those seniors are bad news. You need to do something.”

“What should I do?”

“Go over there, talk to her.”

“Now? Really?”

“Yes, really. She’s your twin sister, right? It’s on you to look out for her reputation. If Bel gets in trouble, it’ll reflect badly on you.”

That was a new concept to Rose. Back home, the school was big and impersonal, and nobody cared who your family was, unless they were rich or famous. But what Emma said made sense. At Odell, everybody knew everybody. Heck, her ancestors’ names were carved on the wall. And she didn’t want Bel to get in trouble. She wanted to be a good sister, and help her find her way here.

“You’re right. I’m going to say something,” Rose said.

Rose got up and marched across the dining hall toward the senior tables. Bel saw her coming, and narrowed her eyes, shaking her head slightly to tell Rose to keep away. Rose hesitated. She didn’t want to embarrass her sister in front of the seniors, but she was also conscious of Emma and the other Morelanders watching to see what she would do. She had to do something, right? Emma had said so. She strode up to the senior table.

“What are you doing?” Bel asked, looking alarmed.

“What are you doing?” Rose replied.

“What does it look like? I’m eating lunch.”

“Come sit with the sophomores.”

“Why? I’m happy here.”

“You shouldn’t sit at a senior table. It’s not done.”

A tough-looking girl with wavy red hair looked at Rose with a bemused expression. “Who is this chick?” she asked Bel.

“My sister,” Bel said.

The redhead reached over and patted Bel on the head playfully. “It’s cool, sis. Darcy said Bel could sit with us. She’s like our new mascot.”

Mascot? That sounded a bit condescending, and yet, Rose felt a tentacle of jealousy stir. She met her twin’s eyes pleadingly.

“Bel, come sit with me, please. I need to talk to you about something.”

“Get lost, Rose. I’m busy.”

In front of strangers, no less. Bel was probably just showing off for her new friends, but still, that really hurt. Rose was only trying to help. Couldn’t Bel see that? Why didn’t she just come along, instead of turning this into a scene?

“You don’t have to be so nasty,” Rose said.

“Hey, is that my sweater you’re wearing?” Bel said.

“Yeah, it’s cute. I borrowed it.”

“Without asking?”

“Since when do I have to ask?”

“Since when do we share clothes? We don’t like the same things. We’re not the same size. Give it back.”

“Fine, I’ll give it back tonight,” Rose said.

“She means now,” the redhead said, in a snarky tone. “You are big, sis. You’ll stretch it out.”

Rose’s cheeks burned. This nasty girl had just called her fat in front of a table full of seniors. Not only did Bel not rise to her defense. She actually smirked.

“Screw you, Bel. I don’t want your skeevy clothes anyway.”

Rose tore the sweater off and threw it in her sister’s face. The look of shock in Bel’s eyes gave Rose a sick thrill as she turned on her heel and fled back to the Moreland table. Rose had always been the loving sister, had always looked out for Bel. Come to think of it, she didn’t get much in return, did she? Bel never repaid the favor, never invited Rose to hang out with her cool friends. To the contrary. She’d been willing to humiliate Rose in front of the seniors.

The Moreland girls had left already, which came as a relief. Hopefully they’d missed the conclusion of that awful scene. Rose’s tray sat alone on the table, the half-eaten taco swimming in a pool of congealing orange grease. She bused her tray, worrying kids would gossip about her now. Her fabulous first day of classes had been ruined; and her self-confidence, which had been soaring this morning, was now in tatters. All because of Bel. As much as Rose loved her sister, she would struggle to forgive her for this.

6

Transcript of Witness Interview conducted by Lieutenant Robert Kriscunas, State Police—Major Crime Unit, and Detective Melissa Howard, Odell, NH, PD, with Miss Emma Kim.

Kriscunas: Miss Kim, I’m confirming for the record that your parents have given us permission to speak with you, and that you’re being interviewed solely as a witness. You’re not a suspect, target or person of interest in this case.

Kim: I should hope not.

Kriscunas: That’s just something we say for the record. Okay, let’s get started. Can you tell us, how well did you know the Enright sisters?

Kim: Pretty well. We were in the same grade. Bel was my roommate, although we weren’t exactly friends. Rose, I was quite friendly with.

Kriscunas: When you say you weren’t friends with Bel, do you mean that you didn’t get along with her?

Kim: I get along with everybody, Detective. But with Bel, we moved in different crowds, and to be honest, I didn’t always approve of her behavior. I kept my distance.

Kriscunas: Yes, and we want to go into detail about Bel’s bad behavior. But for now, let’s stick to the state of the sisters’ relationship. What can you tell us about that?

Kim: Once they came to Odell?

Kriscunas: Anything you can tell us about their relationship would be helpful, as far back as you know.

Howard: For instance, if you know, were Rose and Bel close growing up?

Kim: From what Rose said, I think they were friends to each other. But my sense is, they weren’t close, because they’re so different—were so different.

Kriscunas: In what way were they different?

Kim: In every way. I mean, here at Odell, kids couldn’t believe they were actually twins. First of all, they look nothing alike. Bel was this sultry brunette and Rose was fair, but beyond that—I mean, Bel was drop-dead gorgeous. And Rose was, well, normal. Pleasant-looking. Some might say plain.

Kriscunas: Did that cause problems between them?

Kim: Problems, how?

Kriscunas: Jealousy?

Kim: Oh, so girls are all catty and jealous if one is pretty and the other isn’t? I’m sorry, but that narrative is so trite.

Howard: I don’t think the lieutenant meant it that way, Emma. We’re interested in specific instances of bad feelings between the Enright sisters, that you were aware of.

Kim: If they were jealous, then they were each jealous of the other. I think they both wanted to be more like the other. Rose was really into school, and she was very successful at Odell from the start. Teachers liked her. She was especially close to her advisor, Mrs. Donovan.

Howard: Yes, we’re going to be speaking with Mrs. Donovan.

Kim: Rose studied really hard, did lots of extracurriculars. Her grades were good. Where Bel struggled academically, and I think it bothered Bel that Rose was so into school.

Howard: Bothered her, how?

Kim: Like, she found it annoying and prissy, but she was also jealous. Bel, on the other hand, immediately got accepted into this fast, popular clique. Rose didn’t like that. She worried Bel would get in trouble. But deep down, she was jealous of Bel’s social life. On a Saturday night, Bel would be of partying, but you could always find Rose in the library.

Kriscunas: Rose was quiet, Bel was wild?

Kim: Mmm, that’s too simplistic. In some ways, Bel was the quiet one. She hung out with the older kids, but she was a follower, not a leader. Like with the attack—you know, the slipper incident?

Kriscunas: Yes, we’re going to go over that in some detail in a moment.

Kim: Okay, that was all Darcy Madden’s doing. Bel was just along for the ride. Like I said, a follower. Also, Bel barely ever talked in class, which is somewhat unusual here, and part of the reason she didn’t do well academically. Bel and I didn’t have any classes together, because I’m on the Honors track, and she was definitely not on the Honors track. But I heard from other kids that she’d sit there like a bump on a log, terrified to open her mouth. Except in English.

Kriscunas: You say that like it was important.

Kim: Well. Let’s just say that Mr. Donovan was her English teacher. I can talk about that if you want to. Uh—but Rose was very self-confident. Honestly, even though you could say she wasn’t as popular as Bel, Rose fit in better here.

Kriscunas: When you say Bel was popular, you’re talking about with those seniors she hung out with?

Kim: Yes, exactly.

Kriscunas: You say they were a fast crowd.

Kim: Yes, I mean, come on. Darcy Madden and Tessa Romano—you know what they did, right?

Kriscunas: Absolutely, and that’s on the agenda. We think that incident could be quite important in terms of motive. Tell us more about Bel and the seniors. How did Bel come to hang out with them? And did it cause the tension with Rose?

Kim: How they started hanging out, I don’t know. It was just like that from Day One. I remember the very first day of classes, Bel was already sitting with the seniors, which was pretty unheard of. My guess is, Darcy took a shine to Bel, and since Darcy was the queen bee, that meant Bel was in. Anyway, I told Rose that Bel was headed for trouble, hanging out with that crew. Those girls were notorious for doing drugs, smuggling boys in, pulling pranks, that sort of thing. Rose tried to talk sense into Bel, but Bel wasn’t having it.

Howard: Were there specific incidents you recall where they argued over it?

Kim: Oh, they fought about it all the time. Rose felt like her sweet sister was taken over by pod people, you know? But nothing she said made any diference. You have to understand, showing up here as a newbie sophomore is not easy. To have Darcy Madden favor you with her attention–Bel’s head was turned. It made her feel special. Those weren’t just any friends. They were the most powerful friends you could have at this school, socially speaking. Until it all went wrong, with the attack.

Kriscunas: We understand that the sisters were on opposite sides of that incident. Do you think it’s what caused the rift between them?

Kim: The rift had been developing for a while. And not just over Bel hanging with Darcy’s crew. There were other reasons, too. Fighting over clothes, over boys—over a particular boy. But yeah, it was the attack that caused the most serious breach between them.

Howard: Serious enough to lead to murder?

Kim: You’re the police. You tell me.

Kriscunas: Miss Kim, you were the student who had the best access to both sisters. We’re interested in hearing what you think.

Kim: Honestly? I think there are several possible explanations. There was more going on here than you realize.

Kriscunas: Like what?

Kim: Well . . . you say you’re going to talk to Mrs. Donovan?

7

“To sweet, beautiful Sarah,” Heath said, raising his champagne glass. “‘One half of me is yours, the other half yours, and so all yours.’ Happy thirty, darling, I love you more than ever.”

“I love you, too. So much,” Sarah said, her eyes sparkling with happy tears.

They clinked glasses, took sips, then leaned across the table and kissed lingeringly. His lips were cool and delicious from the champagne. It was the Saturday night after the first week of classes, and the dining room at Le Jardin glowed with flowers and candlelight. Soft music played in the background, and Sarah felt lucky. She would have settled for putting the kids to bed, making a pot of spaghetti and opening a bottle of red wine. But this was a milestone birthday, and Heath had surprised her with dinner at her favorite restaurant, expense be damned. Life with him had its ups and downs, but it was never less than exciting.

“What you said just now, was that Shakespeare?” Sarah asked.

“Yep. The Bard of Avon never fails to impress. There are some benefits to being married to an English teacher, you know.”

He ducked his head sheepishly, and she read his thoughts. Heath loved his work, but he was ashamed of the size of his paycheck. He’d never intended to spend his life as an English teacher. There had been a more fabulous, lucrative goal once, and he’d come achingly close to achieving it. Heath was supposed to be a famous novelist by now. On the bestseller list, winning literary prizes, opening fat royalty checks at a house on Martha’s Vineyard. But things had gone terribly wrong, and they’d fled back to Odell in disgrace. (A private disgrace, with a confidentiality agreement to ensure it stayed that way.) Back to a safe place, where they’d first met. Now, a fancy dinner out was a rare treat. Sarah wasn’t disappointed with their lot in life. They had each other, the two babies she’d always dreamed of, the dog, jobs that were rewarding if not glamorous. But Heath was disappointed, and he didn’t hide it.

“There are many wonderful benefits to being married to Heath Donovan,” she said, lifting his hand and kissing it.

His smile reached his eyes, and she was grateful for it. In the past few weeks, since they’d gotten the promotion to dorm head, Heath had found his way again after years in the wilderness. An ambitious man of a literary bent and few practical skills could do worse than rising through the ranks at a prestigious boarding school like Odell. Heath had a plan. Dorm head today, but tomorrow, head of the English department. Then dean of faculty, and eventually, headmaster. It would take time, but at least he was dreaming again. Heath wasn’t Heath when he didn’t dream. Sarah was starting to believe that the demons were banished, but she wouldn’t say it out loud, for fear of jinxing it.

They sipped champagne, and chatted about their week. There were a couple of new girls in Moreland, twins, who’d been orphaned. Heath and Sarah had taken them on as advisees, and would keep a close watch. They both remembered their early days as students at Odell. How tough the place could be, how hard it was to get your feet under you. Sarah hadn’t been thrilled about the dorm head job. She took it for Heath’s sake. But if this job gave her the chance to help girls like the girl she’d been once—shy, insecure, daunted by the school and everyone in it—then something good could come of it.

Heath opened his menu and studied it, an adorable wrinkle forming between his brows. Sarah paused to appreciate his face—the elegant bone structure, the intense blue-green eyes. Even his ears were perfect—small and neat and dignified.

He looked up and caught her staring. “What?”

“Just thinking how lucky I am.”

“Me, too, always, love,” he said. “Hey, what do you say we split the seafood tower for the first course?”

She looked at the price and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, come on, we just got raises,” he said. “YOLO, am I right?”

She laughed. “You sound like a Moreland girl.”

“Uh-oh, it’s starting to rub off. Seriously, it’s your birthday, so I’m making an executive decision. We split the seafood tower. You get the Dover sole because I know you want it. I get the filet mignon. Then we order the chocolate lava cake with a candle and two spoons.”

“Mmm, you always know what I like,” she said.

“That’s why you married me. So, what do you say?”

“You’ve got a deal.”

They placed their orders, and Sarah pushed the thought of money from her mind. It wasn’t something she’d worried about much, before the setbacks of the past few years. Sarah came from a tight-lipped, old-money, old-Odellian family. She grew up in a stately house in a wealthy town in Massachusetts, where life was comfortable, but cold and restrained. Nobody showed off, nobody cried or danced or displayed much emotion of any kind. Her mother wore sensible shoes and tweed skirts, and belonged to the Junior League. Her father commuted into Boston, to a law firm that his own father had worked at before him, and that he would work at till he retired, or died in the harness, whichever came first. They went to dinner at the country club and to church on Sundays, and talked about trimming the hydrangeas and how the neighbors’ house needed painting. Money was never discussed—which was possible only because they had plenty of it, of course.

Heath arrived at Odell like a whirlwind in junior year, on a tennis scholarship. Most kids who came late in the game never made it to the golden circle, but Heath was different. Kids were bored with each other by then, and Heath—so good-looking, so athletic, so charming—was a sensation. Sarah got assigned to be his peer tutor in math, or she never would’ve gotten near him. They had no classes together, and Sarah didn’t run with the popular crowd. Not that she wanted to; they were a rotten bunch. The same beautiful mean girls Heath sat with at lunch had tormented Sarah since freshman year. Yet Heath took a shine to Sarah, despite the disdain of his friends. Maybe he took a shine to her because his friends didn’t like her, because she was different from them—low-key and nonjudgmental. Heath found refuge in talking to Sarah. He was confident on the surface, but that was an act. His parents were going through a brutal divorce. His father had left his mother for another woman, and Heath’s mother—who’d doted on him and raised him to believe in his own greatness—tried to kill herself. There were lawyers involved, involuntary commitment to a mental institution, money problems. Nobody at school knew except Sarah. She kept Heath’s secrets, and loved that he trusted her. Once he kissed her, that was it, she was done. Though they didn’t get engaged till the end of college. Her parents were none too happy. They thought Heath was beneath her.

Their first few years as newlyweds were bliss. They lived in the city. She worked in a consulting firm, he freelanced for magazines and wrote his novel on the side. Sarah thought Heath was a literary genius, even if his novel hit a bit too close to home for comfort. It was the story of a relationship between a wealthy young woman and a penniless young man that began at an East Coast boarding school. The boarding school details were lifted straight from their Odell years. The couple was even named Henry and Sophia—H and S, Heath and Sarah. But the resemblance ended there, and the latter half of the book—in which Henry and Sophia move to France and get caught up in a decadent, expat social scene that ends in murder—was searingly brilliant. Sarah wasn’t the only one who thought so. Heath got a book deal, a major one, and had a famous director interested in the film rights. They were on the way to realizing their dreams—well, his dreams. Heath’s big break was well deserved. He was a rare talent, a genius. They’d both known it since high school. The world had now caught on, and was giving him the recognition he deserved.

They were so happy.

Then the accusation of plagiarism surfaced. An early reviewer caught it. Whole passages lifted directly from Fitzgerald’s Tender Is the Night, not the revised edition, but the first, convoluted one, that wasn’t widely read. Heath denied it, and Sarah believed him with all her heart. It was only when the publisher pulled the book, prior to publication, that she went out and bought a copy of Tender Is the Night and compared for herself. Heath must’ve thought that nobody would check, because when you put the pages side by side, the plagiarism was obvious. She was almost as angry about his carelessness as his lies. How could he have been so cavalier about something so important to their future? He was used to being admired and adored; that was why. Heath was confident that his transgressions would be overlooked, or forgiven. And she tried to forgive. But it was hard.