Joan Undone

Chapter 20

Having millions of dollars in my bank account makes my head spin. I resist the urge to look over my shoulder, as if someone's waiting to tackle me to the ground and force me to transfer the funds.

For tonight, I avoid the Bunker. I'm going to fall apart a little, and it's better if no one witnesses my breakdown, even my friends. Instead, I go to my neglected dorm room.

Tupac and Alison are waiting for the elevator, and Alison's eyes widen when she sees me.

"Where have you been?" she asks, grabbing my arm.

I pull my arm out of the death grip she has on it. "You've seen me in class."

"Once in a while. But you're like a ghost, slipping away before anyone can talk to you. What are you up to?"

"Tell me what you want. I need rest," I say, covering up my fragility with bitchiness, a skill I perfected long ago.

We step into the elevator, and I pray for the creaky old box to move faster.

"You said we could help you make a difference!" Alison says, shaking me by the shoulders. "We thought you saw us as more than pretty faces here to entertain the Evolved. Did you change your mind?"

Tupac pulls her back. "You okay, Joan?"

Oh God. Alison's irritation, I can face. But sympathy will undo me.

Alison's face morphs from anger to concern, now too. "Did someone get hurt?"

Sal, covered in blood, dead by my hands.

Tupac's hand covers mine. "Someone we know? A student?"

I will not cry.

I will not cry.

I will not cry.

The elevator doors ping open. Alison and Tupac have ridden with me up to my floor.

"I'm sorry I haven't been in touch. I promise, you are a part of my team, and we need you. I'm still figuring out our next moves, but I'll bring you into the team soon."

"Joan, wait—"

I leave Alison's pleading voice and Tupac's gentle eyes and speed down the hallway to my room.

Inside, I curl up on my bed, waiting for the sobs to come. But they don't. My body grows colder, from the outside in.

An odd noise, a gurgle, tickles the edges of my consciousness. There's another sound, louder this time, coming from the bathroom.

The door is ajar, and I kick it open.

Reality comes back in a flood of color and light at the sight of Harriet's bruised, bloody body curled on the tile. Blood streaks the wall and the ground beneath her.

Past and present collide as I remember Sparkle's body hanging in the bathroom, and Sal's body jerking on the ground. Am I awake?

"Help," she whispers through a bubble of blood forming at her mouth.

"Harriet," I whisper, kneeling beside her, but she's already unconscious.

I heave her up, staggering as I try to stand under her weight. This won't work.

I send an emergency text that will ping every member of my core team. With Harriet's arm slung over my shoulder, I half drag her to my bed. She's still out.

Her face is covered with bruises that are already turning purple. Even if she were conscious, the swelling around her left eye would seal it shut. Her right hand has been damaged so badly it's barely recognizable. A broken bone pops through her skin. I will kill the person who did this to her.