“I was just wondering something. If it says a recommendation came from a founding family, is it possible to find out the exact member of the family it came from?”
“I don’t think so, no.”
“Oh. Okay.” Damn.
She leaned forward. “Anyway, now that I’m back, did you want to talk more about what you’ve been going through these last few weeks? Or did you want to make a start on your college apps?”
“College stuff, please,” I said. I was tired of thinking and talking about the bullying all the time. Making decisions about college would be a welcome distraction.
Around half an hour later, the bell signifying that we had five minutes until first period rang, marking the end of our session.
“Well, we’ve made a good start today,” Ms. Flores said, briskly gathering up some papers. “Your application essay draft is promising. I think you can make some improvements, though, so keep revising it. Also, try to think of some people who can write recommendation letters for your file. The more you have, the better.”
“I will.”
She smiled. “All right. You better get to class. I’ll see you next time.”
“Thanks for the help, Ms. Flores. And thanks for being so cool.”
I grabbed my things and headed toward Royal Hall. Trina and Adam were waiting for me outside the main entrance.
“How was your meeting with Flores?” Trina asked, hooking her arm in mine.
“Good. She actually believed me about Hunter and all the others.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “Let me guess… she can’t do anything about it?”
“She can. She just needs proof.”
His brows shot up. “Really?”
“Yeah. Apparently the school isn’t renewing her contract once it finishes because she intervened in some other bullying last year. So she basically feels zero loyalty to anyone here except the students who need help.”
“Wow. Nice.”
“What sort of proof does she need?” Trina asked.
“Anything that directly shows them bullying me.”
She rubbed her chin. “Damn. That could be hard. Hunter has been pretty careful to stay out of it. He knows everyone else will do his dirty work for him.”
“I know. But once they start getting suspended over it, and he finally has to do some of it himself, he might slip up.”
“True. Also, you have me as your secret weapon. I can spy on him at home to see if he does anything there,” Adam said with a dramatic wink. “Maybe I can catch him on camera talking about his plans to push you off a cliff.”
I laughed wryly at his dark joke, but my amusement faded as I turned the corner and caught sight of my locker.
There was something stuck to it—a black envelope with a gold calligraphic capital M on the front.
Fear sank sharp talons into my chest as I stepped closer.
I snatched the envelope off the locker and held it out to my friends, hands trembling and eyes wide and fearful. “What the hell is this?”