Page 49 of Haunting the Deep

The bell rings.

Niki jumps down from Jaxon’s desk, leans over, and whispers something in his ear before walking off. I look at Jaxon, but he’s busy pulling out his homework.

“Settle down, everyone,” Wardwell says. “Sam, you’re up first for trivia. Give me a name of a famous passenger, a brief description, and whether or not they survived.”

I clear my throat. “Hammad Hassab. He lived in Cairo, and he was twenty-seven years old. Henry Harper hired him as an interpreter while he was traveling there and then offered to pay his fare to come to America as his valet. He survived.” I looked him up after I saw him that night at dinner. “He was the only full-blooded Egyptian on boardandhe was the only non-Lebanese Arab passenger to survive.”

Wardwell nods. “Correct. Also, speaking of Hammad and the Harpers, who you were asking about yesterday…Did you know that they were one of the only families that survived without casualties? And even more remarkable, their dog survived with them.”

I drop my pen and glance toward my bag, which holds the dog collar. Could Wardwell’s comment be a coincidence? Unlikely.

“Well, I thought it was interesting, anyway,” Wardwell continues when I don’t answer. “Anyone else?”

Niki raises her hand and Wardwell points to her.

“William Stead. He was a newspaper editor for years in England and built a reputation because of his political writing. His articles were responsible for expanding the navy’s funding and exposing child prostitution and raising the age of consent to sixteen. But later in life he started a paper calledWar Against Warand became committed to peace through arbitration. He was on theTitanicbecause President Taft had invited him to be a part of a peace congress at Carnegie Hall. He died on the ship.”

Okay, what’s going on here? First the dog collar, and now this.The morning after I meet Henry Harper, Niki names him in class. Now Wardwell mentions the dog, and I just saw William Stead in my nondream last night. I look from the back of Niki’s blow-dried head to Wardwell. All of a sudden, I don’t trust either of them.

Iclose my locker. No sign of Jaxon and no text. He wouldn’t have left without saying anything, would he? To be fair, I don’t need a ride right now. But still. I’ll just swing past his parking spot on my way out.

I pull out my phone and text Alice.

Me:Headed over now.

As I move through the hall, I slip my arms into my jacket and sling my bag over my shoulder. I go out the door that leads to the student parking lot and stop short. Jaxon is talking to Niki next to his truck, and she’s holding on to his shirt. In the rare instances that Jaxon is mad at me, he still offers me a ride; we just drive home listening to music instead of talking. I really don’t want to watch this. But I am watching it, and I’m standing still and staring.

Oh no. He saw me. He’s looking directly at me…and waving? Am I supposed to wave back?I will not wave at you like everything is normal!He looks at me for a second longer and goes back to his conversation with Niki.

I lift my chin and walk as fast as I can in the direction of Essex Street.

I arrive at the Ropes Mansion Garden in record time. As I pass under the vine-covered trellis, I spot the Descendants. Alice, Mary, and Susannah stand around the sundial in the center of the circular garden, just like the first day I had a real conversation with them. Back when I still believed that there was a logical order to the world and that magic was something you found in bedtime stories.

They turn and watch me approach. Three gothic-chic stunners in a sea of spring green.

I drop my bag on the ground and join their circle. “Are you guys feeling better?”

Susannah tucks a stray piece of auburn hair into her bun. “Much better.”

“Speak for yourself,” Alice says. “While you were being cared for by your mom and your girlfriend, Mary and I had to fend for ourselves.”

“My parents were visiting my aunt,” Mary explains. “They didn’t get home until late.”

I look at Susannah. “Hang on, you have a girlfriend? How did I not know this?”

“Because you’ve barely talked to us in six months. What were you expecting, a memo of updates?” Alice’s matter-of-fact harshness hits me like a slap.

“I…” I have no idea what to say. She’s right. It didn’t occur to me, when she said it last time, how distant I’ve been. Actually, that’s why Jaxon was frustrated with me, too. Maybe I really have been closed off.

Susannah dismisses Alice’s comment with a small wave of her hand. “I’ll introduce you to her.”

“Now, moving on…,” Alice says.

Wouldn’t it be amazing if wedidspend our time talking about the awkward things we said on dates, rather than the weirdo packages delivered by dead people who may or may not want to harm us?

Susannah pulls her already slim-fitting black coat tighter around her body. “Even though we were sick, we did find out something about that key Alice got.”

“Oh?” I ask.