Once An Eve Novel

about Violet, another girl in our year who had written on her closet wall, behind the clothes where no one would discover it. She’d put our bed against the door as we sat there with a stolen knife, etching out our names. I stared at it now, my eyes blurry, remembering the way she had smiled that day, so satisfied when we’d completed our little masterpiece.
    Before I could say anything, Teacher Florence’s hand was in mine, pressing a cool object into my palm. She nodded at me as if to affirm what it was. Then she pushed my fist down, gesturing for me to put it away. I tucked it into the pocket, feeling immediately that it was a key. The key.
    The door flew open, the metal banging against the cement wall. “You were too scared to ask her!” A girl’s voice broke the silence between us. “You’re such a chicken sometimes.”
    Two fifteen-year-old girls had come in, the fronts of their nightgowns wet from washing their faces. They froze when they saw us. One of the girls was blushing so much her ears turned red.
    “Did you want to ask me something?” I said, smiling as I stepped out from behind the chair. The girls didn’t answer. “This was my old room when I was at School. I hope you don’t mind; Teacher Florence was showing me around.”
    The girl who’d been talking had thick black bangs that fell in her eyes. “No,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Of course not.”
    I grabbed Teacher Florence’s hand, wanting to thank her—for understanding, for helping me, for not asking me to explain anything—but then Headmistress Burns appeared in the doorway, her lips pursed. “I was looking for you, Princess,” she said, her eyes darting to me, then Teacher Florence. “I’d like to speak with you in my office, alone.” She turned to Teacher Florence. “Please see to it that these girls get to bed in a timely manner.”
    Then she disappeared into the hall, not bothering to see if I would follow her. I didn’t dare look at Teacher Florence as I left. Instead, I felt the key in my pocket, turning it between my fingers, the weight of it calming me. Just before I crossed the threshold into the hall, I pulled it out and stuck it down the collar of my dress.
    The hall lights shut off. Headmistress Burns held a lantern as we started down the stairs to her office. My cheeks burned at the thought of sitting in that room. No one went there unless they were being punished. I felt like a child now, nervous and afraid, wanting to confess everything I had ever done to displease her.
    When we reached her office she set the lantern on the desk, then gestured for me to sit. The door slammed shut, making the light inside the glass flicker. I kept my eyes on her, my shoulders back, refusing to look away. “Can I help you with something, Headmistress?” I asked. “The trip has taken a lot out of me. I’m eager to get to bed.”
    She let out a small laugh. “Yes, Princess,” she said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “I’m sure you are.” She sat down in front of me, her plump haunches squeezed onto the corner of the desk. Her leg swung back and forth, back and forth, a metronome keeping time.
    My hands were slicked with sweat. I kept my eyes on hers. She could accuse me of whatever she wanted. It didn’t matter now. I thought only of Pip, Arden, and Ruby, and the key pressed against my breast—their only chance. “You must’ve thought you would outsmart us all,” she said coldly. “That we were liars, that we had deceived you. But now here you are, your father’s daughter, raving about the education you received.”
    “Do you have a point?” I asked. “Did you call me in here just to chastise me?”
    Headmistress leaned down, her face level with mine. “I called you in here because I want to know who helped you. Tell me who it was.”
    “I didn’t have help,” I muttered. “I don’t—”
    “You’re lying to my face.” She laughed. “You expect me to believe that you got over that wall by yourself?”
    So she thought I had scaled it. That was impossible—it was nearly thirty feet high—and yet I didn’t correct her, saw my opening and went with it. “I had found rope in the Teacher’s closet. Yards of it. I cut my arm on the wire on top.” I showed her where the warehouse door had sliced my skin when I was trying to escape the Lieutenant. The scar was still pink.
    She tilted her head as if considering it. “How did you know about the Graduates?” she asked.
    “I’d always had