Betrayal Read Online Free Page B

the necklace falling into the wrong hands. I had to keep the Talisman safe, as safe as a dying man’s secret.
    Twisting my long curls into a neat ponytail, I checked myself in the mirror. Red hair and pale skin and sea-gray eyes, just like Agnes. In my crisp uniform, I looked like the perfect Wyldcliffe student. It was only the expression in my eyes that gave me away….
    I was about to leave when I caught sight of something in the mirror that made me turn around. Looking carefully on the opposite wall, I noticed that a scrap of paper had been left in the frame of the photo over my bed. I went over and eased it out, but before I had a chance to look at it, a familiar voice rang out.
    “Oh, God, look who’s turned up. Couldn’t youfind somewhere else to take you in, Johnson? Like an orphanage?”
    The door had swung open and a pretty blond girl in designer clothes was standing there, flanked by two other students. “Sorry, Celeste,” I replied, slipping the paper into my pocket. “I couldn’t resist coming back just to annoy you.”
    Celeste scowled. “Well, keep out of my way.”
    “Oh, I intend to. I’m not exactly longing to get to know you better.”
    Celeste had done everything she could to make my first term at Wyldcliffe as difficult as possible, burning up with resentment over the fact that I had taken the place of her cousin Laura in the dorm. Poor Laura; it was her photo that hung over my bed. Poor, dead Laura, destroyed by Wyldcliffe. Drowned in the lake, the official story went, but the horrible truth was that she had been killed by the coven.
    Another grim reality. Another Wyldcliffe secret.
    “Hi, Sophie,” I said to one of the girls hanging behind Celeste. I actually almost liked Sophie. It wasn’t her fault that she was stupid and scared and bossed around by Celeste. I smiled at her and she glanced at Celeste anxiously before replying in a stilted voice, “Hello, Evie. Did you have a good holiday?”
    “Why are you bothering to talk to her?” snapped India. There was nothing soft or helpless about India. Everything about her was expensive and polished, but she never laughed or fooled around or seemed really happy. Wyldcliffe was littered with girls like India, each one of them a tiny betrayal of too much money and not enough love. She pushed past me rudely. “We only came up here to get changed for supper. Why don’t you leave us alone?”
    “Willingly,” I replied. “Well, see you around, Sophie. I’m going to look for Helen. Don’t let these two suck all the blood out of you.”
    I strode out into the corridor. Students were making their way to the stairs in little groups. I caught snatches of conversation around me: “The police still don’t know what happened…” “My mother wasn’t very keen on sending me back here…” “I hope they find out soon…”
    They were talking about the High Mistress. I realized that ever since stepping over Wyldcliffe’s threshold, I had been expecting Mrs. Hartle to swoop down on me, tall, elegant, and cold, as she had on my very first day. It was difficult to remember that she was no longer there, watching over the school like a malevolent queen bee. Even though she was gone, I had to admit to myself that I was still afraid of her.
    I bent down and pretended to fiddle with my shoe so that I could hear what the other girls were saying. Wild rumors had circulated among the Wyldcliffe students about Mrs. Hartle’s disappearance the term before: that she had stolen money from the school and had fled the country; that she had run away with a secret lover; that she had been abducted by a crazed killer. It wouldn’t be long before someone blamed alien invaders. None of them could imagine that the truth was even weirder than any rumor.
    The gossiping girls passed by: “…I hope they tell us what’s going on…” “It’s creepy not knowing…” They ignored me. To them, I was just dumb old Evie Johnson, a scholarship student, an outsider who