Wednesday, April 22nd, 2020

I bypass my maths class without a second glance. I was on a mission, a mission that involved getting to the other side of the school.

My feet pad heavily against the empty corridor floors and my heart starts racing. It reminded me of last November, of how deserted the corridors were that day. I try not to panic.

I turn left and stop short, almost crashing into Mrs Thornbury as she comes out of her office.

"Oh, Lonnie," she smiles. "I've been meaning to email you. I was hoping you'd come back to speak with me."

"Oh."

"Were you coming to see me now?" she asks.

"Um, well...yeah."

She nods, stepping closer to me. "I just have to take some of these past student folders to get filed but I have about half an hour free before my next session. Why don't you wait in my office for me, okay?"

"Okay," I nod, meekly.

She rushes off, her floral dress blowing out behind her, almost like a cape.

I close the door behind me, taking the opportunity to get to work.

I knew it was wrong. I knew that Mrs Thornbury had trusted me enough to sit in her office unattended. I guess that was her fault.

I rush over to the filing cabinet, knowing that I had limited time. I only wanted to read two files.

All the files are in alphabetical order, which means that I see Harry's first.

Coleman, H.

I walk back over to the couch, laying it out on the coffee table.

I clench my fists before opening it. I know that this was a huge violation of privacy but I just needed to make sure he didn't know.

The first page just states the basic information. Name, birthday, age. I skim over everything until I flick to the third page.

CONFIDENTIAL, the title of the page reads in all caps. I gulp, but continue on regardless of how shit I feel for doing this.

The entry is dated from early December last year. It's Mrs Thornbury's thoughts on the session.

"Harry has had a significant amount of loss inflicted upon him in the past year. He lost his cousin, Liam, who he referred to as his brother. In the moments when he wasn't completely distraught and had the capability of voicing his issues he was able to talk openly and fondly on Liam."

I take a moment to breathe before I can read any further.

"Despite it being less than a month since Liam's death, Harry shows no signs of anger, only sadness. He never once mentioned Phoenix McLaren, the teen who murdered Liam. Harry does not seem to be vengeful in any way. He only seems lost, like he's missing the best part of himself."

I squeeze my eyes shut, bringing a first to my mouth.

"Harry told me that he had not wanted to attend today's session but that he is grateful he did. It had been easier for him to cope now that he'd started to speak about what happened. His home life hasn't been easy since Liam's death. He doesn't feel like his family are ready to talk about what happened."

Tears are gathering in the corners of my eyes.

The next entry is dated a week later, the day before school finished for the year.

"Harry is showing a great amount of progress. I usually wouldn't push such troubling questions so soon, but I believed he could handle it when I asked him about his feelings towards Phoenix McLaren."

My heart drops. This was it. This was what I had wanted to see.

"My initial thought was that Harry may not want to answer any questions about him, but he spoke honestly to me. I'd expected a hint of anger in his tone, but not once did he speak above a whisper.
I began by asking him how he felt when the name was mentioned. He said he just felt numb, empty. He told me he just didn't let himself think about how Liam died, just that he was alive once, that he was a good person."

I slam the file shut. My hands are shaking. Somehow, Harry not being angry at my brother made everything worse.

I put the folder back in the filing cabinet and begin skimming through more names.

Steinfeld, A.

Jackpot.

Despite the fact Aubrey had started at Bakley after me, her folder was already thicker than most students who had been here for years.

I move back over to the couch, briefly watching the door, listening to see if I can hear any footsteps coming closer.

When I don't hear anything, I open Aubrey's file and begin. I skip past all her details, before starting at the confidential page.

"Aubrey has been unable to cope with the loss of her brother. I fear she is not progressing healthily. In my first session with her, she bragged about a petition she had set up to 'expose the bitch sister' (quote) of Phoenix McLaren. The teen who killed her brother. This is the second student at Bakley who has been linked to the Dark Phoenix tragedy last November. But both students have reacted very differently to the loss of their family member."

My stomach begins to churn. Aubrey had already referred to me in her first session. What else had she said?

"Despite insisting on healthy coping mechanisms for Aubrey to try, I believe she is resisting. It is normal to hold onto some anger after a loved one has been killed, but I believe her views are extreme, to say the least. Aubrey is afraid to grieve the loss of her brother, so I believe that she has resorted to revenge. Her one-track mind seems to be focused on Phoenix McLaren's unnamed sister. I have done my research but at the time that the crime was committed, Phoenix's sister was a minor and cannot be named for legal reasons. I have reached out to Aubrey, asking for the girl's name but she had refused to tell me. All she has told me is that the sister moved schools right after the murders and Aubrey has been unable to locate her as she deleted all her social media."

My breathing almost returns to normal when my eyes skim over the last few sentences again.

This entry was dated from last week. It was likely that Aubrey still didn't know that I went to Bakely with her.

I shut the folder and quickly shove it back into the cabinet. This was all I needed to know. I just needed to reassure myself that Aubrey didn't know I was here. That she wouldn't blow my cover.

The door swings open and I jump, clutching at the couch.

"Sorry about that," Mrs Thornbury says. "It took longer than I thought."

Mrs Thornbury's stomach has grown significantly since the last session I had had with her. She rubs it absentmindedly as she sits on the couch opposite me.

"I, um, have something for you," I say, reaching into my bag. I hand over the sheet of paper, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh!" she smiles, "you filled it out. Thank you."

Despite not wanting to do the get-to-know-me sheet that she had given me last time, I felt obliged to. Mrs Thornbury was the type of person who unintentionally made you feel guilty for not doing something she asked. She was too nice.

"You like cats more than dogs, huh?" she says, skimming the sheet, her eyebrow cocked.

"Yeah," I nod.

"Well, I might have to kick you out now," she jokes. I try to smile, but it turns into a grimace.

"So," she says, resting her hands on her knees. "What's on your mind today?"

"A lot," I whisper, staring at the coffee table in front of me.

"What's upsetting you the most then?"

"Well, I, um, found out something about someone I know."

"Does this something change the way you see this person?"

I shake my head, then nod, then shake it again. "It's...complicated."

"Okay," she says, patiently. "Start from the beginning at your own pace. Tell me as much, or as little, as you like."

I focus on the wall behind her, specifically a poster with a suicide hotline written across the bottom.

"This person hasn't done anything wrong. But I learnt something about them that connects us. Connects us in a bad way. A way that will make them hate me."

She furrows her eyebrows but nods. "Are you close to this person?"

I gulp. "We only met this year but...yeah. I feel like I can almost just be whoever I want around them. Except I can't. I can't because there are some things I could never say."

She nods again. I can see her watching me but I can't meet her eyes.

"So you feel...guilty?"

"Yes," I say. "Because the secrets that I'm keeping affect this person severely. He doesn't know who I really am."

"It involves my brother," I add as an afterthought, remembering that I had spoken to her about Nix previously. However, she had no idea who he really was.

Tears suddenly spring into the corners of my eye. Mrs Thornbury reaches over and grabs a tissue, passing it to me.

"Take your time," she reassures me.

My hands begin to tremble uncontrollably and I can feel it all rising. I can't hold it in anymore. I can't stay quiet. I can't keep myself together without falling apart.

"Harry," I choke, "oh god. Harry."

"Harry?" she whispers, leaning forward. "Harry...Coleman?"

"It's all my fault. I should have seen it. I should have known that this would happen."

"Lonnie, slow down. Start from the beginning. Take a deep breath."

"My brother," I croak. "My brother..."

Mrs Thronbury doesn't interrupt. She sits there patiently, rubbing her swollen belly as she waits for me to speak.

"My brother killed Liam."

I finally meet her eyes but she's only staring at me in concern. She doesn't look disgusted like I had expected.

"Liam. Liam Coleman? Harry's—"

"Yes, Mrs Thornbury."

"Your brother was—"

"Phoenix," I clarify. "Phoenix McLaren."