"Selene? Are you even listening?"

I snapped to attention, meeting Naomi's eyes over the breakfast table. Her green eyes, typically friendly, seemed a little irritated this morning. Probably because I'd been spacing on her all morning.

"I'm sorry," I told her, for what was probably the tenth time this morning. "I'm listening."

Naomi looked like she didn't believe me. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," I told her, shrugging my shoulders in an attempt to seem nonchalant. "Just didn't get a whole lot of sleep, you know?"

"Are you still freaked because of the mirror thing?"

I'd told Naomi about the message written on my mirror yesterday at dinner. It felt nice to open up to her about it, like I wasn't alone here.

"A little," I admitted. And it wasn't a lie, but the current thought running through my head was the letter, tucked away under a stack of homework papers in my desk. While I'd told Naomi about the mirror, I hadn't told her about the conversation I'd overheard between Inara and Ms. Rose, or about the letter from my mother.

"I know Inara is taking it seriously," Naomi said as she poked at her food. "She installed a security camera. And she hates those things."

"Yeah, I know. You told me about how she'd taken down all the cameras the previous headmaster had installed around the campus."

Naomi nodded her head, her red curls bouncing as she did. "And there were a lot of cameras. Like a lot. Think 'Big Brother is watching you' level of cameras."

"Why was he so invested in cameras?"

She shrugged her shoulders as she took a bite of her food. "I guess he just liked the thrill of exerting his power over students. And the cameras gave him full access to knowing who was misbehaving and when."

A power-tripped headmaster. That sounds like a blast, I thought to myself.

"Anyway," Naomi continued. "Inara won't let something like that happen again. And Ms. Rose is constantly keeping her eye on you. Whoever played that nasty prank won't be able to do it again. And I'm sure they'll be caught soon."

I wanted desperately to believe Naomi and to have complete faith in Inara and her system. But I wasn't sure that I could. The letter in my gym locker had been bad enough. Someone breaking into my room undetected was worse.

And there were a few people I thought were capable of something like that. Mari, for one. She hated my guts, for whatever reasons she validated in her warped mind. Alek, who also hated my guts.

Even Inara, who I'd overheard telling Ms. Rose that she'd needed me to invite my mother to Parent's Day. Had she been desperate enough to put that letter in my gym locker? Or had she had someone else do it for her?

The thought didn't sit well with me, and I pushed my plate away, nauseated.

"Not hungry?"

I shook my head. "Not really."

"If you wait a bit, I can walk with you to class."

"It's a little early, isn't it?" I'd arrived much too early to the dining hall this morning, sitting down at a table before they'd officially started serving breakfast.

I'd earned some odd looks from the chefs as I'd sat down at the table. But I couldn't take sitting in my dorm any longer. The restlessness had settled in after I'd read the letter from my mother a million times.

There had been no point in trying to sleep, so I'd worked on the homework I was behind in, doing anything to keep myself from wondering what my mother could have meant in that letter.

"We can stop by the mailing office. See if your mom replied?"

I must have made a face at her suggestion, because she quickly said, "Or not. That's fine."

"No, it's okay," I finally relented. "I doubt it, but I guess it never hurts to check, anyway."

There wouldn't be a letter, I knew, but I also didn't have the energy to talk to Naomi about the one I'd already gotten. How would I explain the single sentence she'd written me?

You have no idea what you've done.

What was that even supposed to mean? Had I made Vincent angry? I supposed that was nothing new, but if my mother was home alone with him, I could only imagine the way in which he would show his displeasure at being reminded of my existence.

I wondered if she was okay. If Vincent had taken to hitting her the same way he used to do to me. Was I the cause of his anger, or was there another, deep-rooted reason? And if the latter was true, then was my mother suffering?

I wished there was a way for me to know. But I likely never would.

Naomi finished her food quickly, then we headed to put our plates away together. We wove through the crowd that was beginning to thicken, as more students arrived to eat breakfast.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mari and Alek, deep in a conversation that looked serious. She looked angry, but he didn't appear to care. He was speaking to her as if she were beneath him.

I looked away as he raised his head, like he could feel me staring at him. Uneasiness crept through me as I turned my gaze to the floor and followed Naomi, unable to turn around to see if he was watching me. But I had the oddest feeling that he was.

The mailing office was quiet and nearly empty, save for the worker who moved slowly behind the little glass window.

He looked up at us as we entered, peering over his glasses. His salt and pepper hair was neatly combed, each and every strand in its place. There wasn't a single piece of facial hair on his face, as if he woke every morning and meticulously shaved.

His voice was gravelly and deep. "Can I help you?"

"I was wondering if any mail had arrived for me?" I did my best to keep the nerves from my voice, but I could hear the shaky edge to it all the same.

"What's your name?"

"Selene Tate."

"Give me a minute," he said. "I'll go check in the back."

As we waited, Naomi didn't bother to make small talk. She appeared nearly as nervous as I did, though I wasn't sure why. Her mother had been texting her all week, making plans for Parent's Day.

Part of me had wanted to scream, listening to Naomi talk about when her mom would arrive, and how they'd go to breakfast together, and tour the campus, and spend the entire day together. I struggled to listen and keep the smile on my face. Especially when all I wanted to do was fall apart.

The man came back, a small white letter clutched in his hands. "One letter. Here you go."

Surprised, I took it from him with shaking hands. "Thank you."

He made a noncommittal noise before turning back to his work behind his desk, sorting through more and more mail.

The letter felt like it weighed a million pounds. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I could feel my palms start to sweat. It was addressed to me, with a return address of Vincent and Natalie Anders.

I felt my heart sink into the pit of my stomach, like a rock falling into the Grand Canyon. Sinking and sinking and sinking, with nowhere to go but down, down, down.

For a minute, I thought the room was spinning. My breathing hitched in my throat for a half second, before Naomi's voice pulled me out, hauling me back into the present, into my body.

"Well, aren't you going to open it?"

I stared at her, at the way she watched me curiously, as if me not ripping the letter open instantly was the most interesting thing in the world to her. But she didn't understand. She still spoke to her mother on a daily basis.

And I doubted her mother had even disowned her because of an accident that wasn't her fault.

"Not here," I finally said, looking back toward the man behind the counter, who was no longer paying us any attention. "Somewhere else."

Naomi nodded and we turned to leave, heading out into the early morning air outside.

The weather hadn't improved, though the snow hadn't fallen like Ms. Rose had said it might. It was still bitterly cold and the sky was that same shade of slate gray, as if it might just open up at any moment.

"What do you think it says?" Naomi asked me as we stepped onto the sidewalk heading toward the academic buildings.

"I don't know," I admitted. And it was true. I'd already gotten a letter from my mother. So what was this? Another letter telling me what a fool I'd been contacting her in the first place? I didn't need another one of those. "Probably her telling me she isn't coming."

"You should open it," she said. "You never know until you read it."

With shaking fingers, I pried the seal open. Unlike the previous letter I'd received, this was carefully folded, the edges pressed down repeatedly until it lay perfectly flat.

I opened it, looking at the careful, perfect handwriting of my mother, again so unlike the other letter. Swallowing hard, I forced myself to read it, aware of Naomi's apt attention on me.

Dear Selene,

We were so surprised to receive your letter. Especially after our last in-person discussion.

And while we appreciated your words and your sentiments, they are not well received. And they mean nothing. Not anymore.

We do not honor or respect your feeling that you are still a member of this family. You are not. And we thought we'd made that clear during our last meeting.

As such, your request that we be present for this 'Parent's Day' has been denied, as we are no such thing for you. Our only son, Oliver, has died and we are grieving his death and would appreciate no further contact from you.

Best Regards,

Vincent and Natalie Anders

I hadn't even finished the letter before my throat began to feel tight, like a constricting hand had wrapped around it, squeezing and squeezing until it was hard for me to breathe.

"Selene?" Naomi asked, the worry clear in her voice. "Is everything okay?"

There were no words. Not for this. Every day since I'd arrived here at Whitethorn, I'd been hoping my mother had missed me, had regretted her decision to send me away.

I'd thought, foolishly, that our relationship could be repaired or at the very least, salvaged. But I'd been wrong. There was nothing left to save. Every single bit of tattered thread that I'd thought had weathered the storm had been blown away, scattered in the breeze, never to be seen again.

And that killed me.

My mother, the woman who'd given birth to me, who had sworn that she would always be there for me, was truly gone.

A tear slipped down my cheek, and I struggled to keep down the savage sob that was building inside of me. So, I did the only thing I could.

I ran, letting the overwhelming grief sweep me into its oblivion.