‘I was thinking literature,’ I
reply. I think of Penny, it’s what she would have done. I can remember all of
the conversations she had about the books she loved. She made me love them too.
I have to do something here while we look for Yates.
‘Fantastic,’ Tarquin says. ‘We’ll
start you tomorrow. Come along, I’ll show you to your new home.’
I wonder has he forgotten about
Yates. We follow him out of the school. I spare a look back to Teague. Was
there a look in his eye? That old glint of maniacal genius? It’s gone in an
instant and I’m left to wonder. Maybe we’ll have to stay here just another day,
to see whatever plan the Wildman turned teacher has concocted.
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