Thanatos launches himself to catch the phone, and the front of his form skids unceremoniously against the neatly-cut grass. Rebecca herself skids to a halt at the sight of Jonny on his knees gasping for breath and Thanatos curled into a ball, clutching the device to his chest. She opens her mouth to berate them, ask them what in the world they think they’re doing, but Jonny rushes to cover her mouth with his dirty hands. She tries to pry them away to no avail.

“They’ll hear you.” Jonny whispers. He releases her at her next pull.

“Who?” she asks just as low.

“This isn’t the place to answer that,” Thanatos mumbles, attempting to stand, but he soon crumbles. He whimpers and bites his lip to muffle it. Rebecca approaches and kneels with grace. She smoothes out her skirt.

“You’re injured.” It’s less concern and more matter-of-fact, an acknowledgement. “I can fix that.” He eyes her scrutinously. She pushes him back onto his rear. “Which one?”

Thanatos turns his head sharply in defiance. “Left,” Jonny speaks up, and he receives a mean side-eye as thanks.

“Jonathan!”

Rebecca takes the left ankle into her hands. She smiles in pride. “This one, huh?” She tests it, and Thanatos falls onto his back and grips the grass, taking in a deep, pained breath. “I can fix it, but why should I? You’ve been awfully rude to me so far, Mr. Briar. . .”

“C’mon, Rob, now’s not the time for this.” Jonny gives his best puppy-dog eyes, but she doesn’t budge.

“No, no, it certainly is.” She presses harder, and Thanatos groans. “I want an apology. If he says he’s sorry, I’ll fix his ankle well enough until he can see the school’s doctor.”

The air goes silent, and both Rebecca and Jonny stare expectantly at Thanatos. The man in question breathes in, out, in again in shaky beats. He glances from Sibylla’s shut window to the phone in his hand. He glances at Jonathan and Rebecca. He finally lands on his ankle. Leaning up, he braces himself on his elbows.

“Well?” Rebecca prods. Eventually, Thanatos’ hard, defiant stare softens in begrudging resignation.

“I’m sorry for my rudeness and for hurting you,” he starts. It’s incredibly soft-spoken, and Rebecca has to lean in to hear it. She smugly notes the way his face blushes deep in his rotting friendly-fire to his pride. “I also apologize for putting you in danger. If it were entirely up to me, I would have done this alone without all the extra trouble.”

She rolls her eyes and harrumphs. “Oh, Thanatos, that was so close, but you had to ruin it, didn’t you? Trouble, you call us.” She lifts the ankle higher. “Whatever, it’s close enough.”

With gentle breath, she lets the magic from her core, white through and through, wash through her bones in waves, caressing her nerves and skin until it reaches the very toppiest-tips of her fingers. That same soothing soaks through Thanatos’ boots, the makeshift splint, and his olive skin.

“Leniter emantur ligna carnem.”

The relief the minor healing spell brings him has him flat on his back again until sharp pain briefly holds his broken ankle hostage. He’s quick to bite into the palm of his thumb, tasting dirt on his gloves. There are cracks like the pops of fire as the bones mend themselves into their proper place. It’s not as temporary a solution as a splint made of dead wood and hoodie strings, but it’ll be enough for now. Rebecca drops the ankle without care as soon as she finishes.

Thanatos sits up and tests it with a few rolls. It’s certainly sore, but it’s usable. “Not bad,” he mumbles. Jonny helps him to his feet.

“It’s not bad at all considering the damage you did to it!” she whisper-yells at him. “What kind of idiot runs on a broken ankle?”

“Takes an idiot to know an idiot.”

Rebecca gasps. “You apologize for insulting me only to insult me further!”

Both Rebecca and Jonny watch with widening eyes as he smiles, small and real, and attempts to hide it behind his hand. It even reaches the corner of his eyes. “You’re just too easy to tease.” He shakes his head, and the moment passes sooner than it came. He holds up his phone, screen now with a few more cracks than before. “Let’s go to the clubroom.”

“It’s night!”

“Hasn’t stopped us before,” Jonny says.

And so they cautiously approach the main school building, careful to avoid any of the night watchmen. Checking his phone, Thanatos notes it’s a little after 8 o’clock, well after the buildings close for the night and less than an hour until the weekday curfew. The clubroom is on the second floor, so Rebecca had insisted she run into the girls’ dorm to grab her broom. With that in hand, she flies up to the club room’s window and, pulling two bobby pins out from her hair, picks the window’s lock. Once inside, she sends the broom for the boys, and they’re ceremoniously brought in and lowered to the small amount of free floor space they have. The window shuts quietly with a wave of Thanatos’ fingers.

The trio hastily moves to the table and stares at the phone in the center. Thanatos unlocks it and pulls up the voice recording. Jonny swallows; Rebecca braces herself. Thanatos nods at them before pressing play.

At first it’s just the sound of Thanatos placing the phone and shuffling away, but then it quickly focuses on the voices inside the classroom. The first is Mr. Thompson.

“You look lovely as ever, Ms. Waterson.”

The girl in question, Angie, laughs like a spring breeze. “I’m just in my uniform! You say this every time, regardless of how I look. I’m starting to think you’re just messing with me.” Her words are accusatory, but her voice carries hardly any malice. Footsteps and the sound of clothes shuffling.

“I can’t help it,” he says. “Not with you.” All three of the listeners feel their stomachs drop.

“This is so gross,” Jonny mumbles, and Thanatos tells him to shut up.

Angie kisses something skin or other before there’s a distinct thud upon the floor. Then another. She releases a loud, annoyed groan.

“This old man never learns, does he?” she asks. Her voice carries none of its usual cadence, instead opting for bluntness and cool. It carries an age with it that doesn’t suit a teenage girl. More footsteps until they cease much closer to the phone. A knock.

Muffled, a soft but masculine voice asks, “Can- Can I come out now?”

“Yes, dear, he’s out and dreaming.”

A door creaks open, and Thanatos figures it’s the closet at the back of the classroom. Another set of footsteps joins Angelica’s as they move back towards the front.

Angelica scoffs. “Time and time again, and he never suspects a thing.”

“He’s definitely creepy.”

“True, but it works to our advantage. What doesn’t is that pesky detective. I’m certain he has the student council president under his thumb as well,” she laments. “We need to be more careful.”

The boy sighs. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Angelica taps something repetitively. “It’s not your fault. No need.”

“Then what do we do? You know I’m not strong enough to slow it down or erase it.” He’s pacing, certainly, by now. “And none of the other girls fit, not close enough, not for you. We could always try a different type—”

“Absolutely not.” Angelica asserts harshly. He whimpers and stops in his tracks. “Whilst I appreciate the thought, I refuse to live on not looking like myself as much as possible.”

“I. . . I understand. I’m sorry.”

She sighs. “It’s quite alright; you were just being considerate. You still apologize far too much, though.”

“I’m sorry!”

Angelica groans. “Whatever. Just do the best you can, and don’t interact with that Briar boy if you musn’t. Or any of them for that matter. You’re mine and mine alone, understand?”

He shudders. “Of course, ma’am.”

“And you’ll get your reward for helping me as soon as he leaves.” There’s more shuffling. “I didn’t get this far only for it to be for nothing. They stole my life from me once, and I won’t let them do it again. Lay low for now and leave everything to me; you’ll act when I say.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They can hear the smile in her voice. “That’s my good little necromancer. Now leave me. I need to wait this out, and I don’t want you getting caught.”

He rushes to the door opposite of the phone. “Please, Miss Estelle, if you need anything—”

The recording ends mid-sentence.

All three now sit slumped and dumbfounded in their seats, processing. Thanatos stares at his phone, Rebecca at her hands, and Jonny at the ceiling. Thanatos takes his phone back and duplicates the recording several times just in case.

“Who’s Estelle?” Jonny asks, finally breaching the unsettling tension. Thanatos and Rebecca both shrug. “And the dude?”

“I have no idea, but he sounds. . . familiar,” Rebecca replies.

“Right? Same here, but I can’t quite put my tongue on it.”

Thanatos huffs. “The saying is ‘finger.’”

“Whatever, man, you get the point.”

Rebecca buries her face in her hands. “Nonetheless, we can confirm Angelica isn’t Angelica but actually this ‘Estelle’ person, yes?” Thanatos nods. “And she’s the one responsible.”

“The chances are significantly high. If she’s possessing Angelica, then it’s safe to say she’s also possessed the other two girls, Dottie and Kelcey.” Thanatos scratches his neck. “And whoever this other person is, he’s involved as well.”

“So she’s, like, a ghost?” Jonny presses.

Thanatos bites his lip. “I. . . I don’t know.” Rebecca and Jonny share a worried look. He continues, “I don’t know what she is, but she’s capable of carrying such a powerful curse and leaving a trail of bodies behind, and if he’s a necromancer, he’s helping her move from body to body lest she disappear or pass on.”

“That’s super. . .”

“Horrifying,” Rebecca finishes for him.

“Yeah.”

They sit in silence for the umpteenth time that evening. Just when one attempts to speak up, they immediately shut their mouth. This goes on for moments that feel like double their weight, unsure of what to say or do or even think. Even Thanatos, mighty detective he knows he is, simply plays the recording back in his head on loop.

“He sounds young,” he says softly. “Naive, unsure of himself. A student.”

The other two look up at him. He rises to his feet.

“We’ll look for him. I’ll think of something, so. . . So let’s sleep on it for the night.” Jonny stands too, then Rebecca.

She tucks some of her hair behind her ear. “We’ll definitely be better minded.”

“Agreed, dude.”

She frowns. “Don’t call me dude.”

“Sorry. Agreed, dudette.”

Rebecca huffs. “And about Estelle?”

Thanatos looks Rebecca dead in the eyes and holds her still as such. “For now, absolutely nothing. We’re going to leave her be until I have a plan.”

“But—!”

“No buts, Ms. Hawthorne, you’ll do as I say lest you wish to have our lives at stake more than they already are. This isn’t pish-posh truancy or a silly playground fight; this is a dangerous form of magic and scheming unlike any you’ve seen, and you know that very well by now.” He leans in closer towards her, over the table. “Do absolutely nothing until I say so.”

Rebecca stares back at him just as hard, but she crosses her arms and nods. “Fine.”

He breathes out a sample of his exhaustion before heading to the window. They leave much like they entered and retreat to their dorms aching. Jonny and Thanatos big Rebecca good night as they leave her at the girls’ dorm front entrance, and she makes quick work of retreating to her large, two-person room home to one.

It’s lavishly decorated in hand-crafted, expensive finery. Everything’s been customized to suit her needs, but the comfort of it passes over her entirely. She makes quick work of her clothes and shoes and even quicker work of her hair. It falls long and layered against her bare back as she flings her sports bra into her hamper and grabs for a night gown from her dresser. The fine silk, at leasts, helps her ease some.

She turns all of the lights off save for that of the bathroom, and she turns on the television to one of those old rerun channels. The show is in black and white, a two-century old classic, and she smiles at the episode as she mouths along to the lines. An excitable housewife constantly getting into trouble to the exasperation but love of her bandleader husband. It’s a cute something from the 1950s.

Rebecca makes tea in the dark before settling on the couch to enjoy herself after a long day. She refuses to rest on a bad note; it’s not good for her complexion. It’s soured fast, though, when her phone buzzes, and she gets a text from Angelica.

‘Can’t make committee meeting tomorrow, sorry! Emergency came up!’

Her anger flares, and she sets the tea cup on its saucer calmly before throwing her phone into the other side of the couch with all of her strength. She kisses her teeth at it and squints. Another buzz to notify her of the text, and she scrambles to unlock it.

Thanatos is a fool for letting her get off the hook for now. If he won’t do something, she will. This girl is a murderer. It’s idiocy to watch as she continues to threaten this school.

Do absolutely nothing, Rebecca’s ass. How dare he order her.

‘Emergency? The only emergency you have coming is a jail sentence, Miss Estelle.’ She types. ‘We know what you’re doing, and I’m not going to let you get away with it, not on my own life. Leave Angelica alone and leave this place, or else.’

Rebecca stares at the message. Briefly, her thumb hovers over the backspace key, but she closes her eyes instead and hits send. She turns her phone off before she can make a reply and once more throws it to the other side of the couch. She finishes her cup of tea, enjoys the remainder of the episode, and then promptly crashes into her king-sized bunk bed with 10 mg of melatonin coursing through her.

She’s consumed in sleep by the silk against her body, the high thread-count keeping her warm on top, and the down feather pillow cradling her weary head beneath.

Sleep is all well and good until she’s woken up by her blaring alarm. Rebecca hobbles down from her bed, promptly hits the snooze button on her digital alarm clock, and proceeds to the bathroom. It’s her usual routine of showering, brushing her teeth, doing hair, doing makeup, etcetera. She covers every hint of acne with concealer, and she hides extra bobby pins in her hair.

It comes time for her to dress before breakfast, and halfway through, she hears an absolute ruckus outside her door. Slipping on her shoes, she opts for the uniform sweater instead of vest and coat for time’s sake, but before she exits, she is sure to carefully attach her student council armband.

Rebecca opens the door to find more girls of her hall, some still in their pajamas to her dismay, rushing down the hall to the lobby. She frowns and pulls one aside.

“What’s the meaning of this?” She asks, gesturing to all the commotion.

“I don’t know!” the girl exclaims, a little spooked. “But we got told something super freaky happened at the fountain, and that we should just see it for ourselves.”

Rebecca lets her go, and she shakes her head at the way she rejoins her friends for more gossip. Regardless, she should see what it’s about, she figures, so she grabs her phone, wallet, and keys for the road and tucks them in her skirt pocket after locking her door.

She follows the gaggle of students all the way to the courtyard fountain, where dozens of early birds and tired worms alike gawk in chilling horror at the bloody water and the two bodies that float lifelessly there. Rebecca swallows and pushes forward, ushering students to stay back. They don’t need to be told twice.

“Hawthorne!” Thanatos calls from just behind her. She turns around slowly. Thanatos and Jonny, both still in their sleep clothes jog towards her. Thanatos is in an awful punny t-shirt and black boxers. Jonny is in a proper matching pajama set, dark blue.

“I—” She clams up, unable to finish, and she turns away from the scene. Thanatos ushers her into Jonny’s arms as he moves past, and for the time, she allows the opportunity to hide.

Thanatos kneels on the wide rim of the white, marble fountain. The water has long since stained red with blood, so much so it outdoes the vibrance of the ginger hair bathing in it. Two bodies, one male and one female, rest with their backs facing upwards in the base layer of the 10 foot diameter fountain. Their hands are tied together with a men’s tie. It’s ample room for them to lay. It’s ample room for him to join them.

He pries off his flats and lets them fall to the ground, and then he steps into the murky water without hesitation. Most of the students gasp and whisper in response; some even gag. He pays it no mind even as he feels all the coins beneath his toes.

Thanatos turns the female body over enough to see but not enough to disturb where they are connected, and sure enough, Angelica Waterson breathes no more. He checks for a pulse, just in case, but there’s nothing. He turns her back over and hikes up her shirt to check her back. “Incomplete branching,” he notes. “But they’re bleeding into the water. Angelica Waterson, age 16, deceased from curse infliction.”

He moves onto the other body. Perhaps. . . No, it isn’t. “Ecker Thompson, age 37, deceased from. . .” He eyes lower, to the ligature marks around his neck. “Deceased from, most likely, asphyxiation. No obvious signs of other trauma or bleeding.”

With every word, no matter how quiet he’s being, the students grow more panicked. The student council, save for Rebecca, get to faster work influencing them away from the scene, even as they’re barraged with questions. Quite a few are crying, and they’re offered handkerchiefs by council and peers alike. Jonny tries to urge Rebecca into action, but she remains perfectly shellshocked.

He looks back and forth from the girl still against his chest to the scene behind him. “Rob, if— Dude, you gotta do something? Ah, crap, I’m sorry.” He leaves her be to take charge, moving from student to student to answer anything he can. He reassures them, comforts them, tells them to head back to those willing to budge. He even extends this to the exhausted student council members, just as unsure as the students they’re supposed to lead. Rebecca never moves.

She listens, though, to Thanatos’ investigation.

Thanatos unties their hand and sets the tie on the fountain rim. Above water, he unfurls Mr. Thompson’s incredibly tight fist as Angelica’s falls limp with a splash back into the red. Inside is a note kept mostly dry with only some wet edges. It’s crumpled but legible as he unfolds it.

The more of it he reads, the angrier he gets; the paper shakes in his hands. He can’t even finish it before he folds it neatly and sets it, too, on the ledge. Taking a deep breath, he sits Mr. Thompson’s body upright, lets it lean against the second tier of the fountain, and he leans in very close to inspect further.

Rebecca watches closely the way Thanatos whispers something into Mr. Thompson’s ear. She watches closer the way Mr. Thompson seems to whisper back before Thanatos pulls away and acts as if nothing happened.

“Hawthorne, we need to—”

A loud whistle catches everyone’s attention. Barbara Waurelt herself stands in front of the fountain and its contents, Thanatos included, with a bright silver whistle in her mouth. She tucks it away once all eyes are on her, and none of the students are foolish enough to let that linger any longer than necessary. She clears her throat.

“All students back to your rooms. Now!” she yells in command. She’s seething, livid, and booming, and everyone rushes away. She points to Jonny and Rebecca. “Greenwell and Hawthorne, stay put!” They do immediately, but Rebecca gets bumped into by someone, who mutters something fast, and leaves before she can turn around.

She whips around to Thanatos, caught with red hands and redder legs. The bandages on his arms are stained now, too, with it. The icing on the cake is the way he no longer shakes with anger and instead remains just as still as the corpses at his feet.

“You.” She points sharply at the ground. “Get out of there, immediately. I want all three of you in my office for a good, long talk.”