The Alchemy of Forever

know where, probably his heart. I screamed as Nathaniel fell backward into the snow, his blood seeping outward in the pure white until it was just one big pool of red. His body evaporated into dust.
    I’m pulled from memory by the realization that everyone in the classroom is staring at me, waiting for something. Cyrus must have called on me to answer a question, but I have no idea what it is. I swallow, then open my mouth. But before I can make an utter fool of myself, the bell rings.
    Mercifully, the silence dissolves into the sounds of backpacks being unzipped, notebooks closing, and stools being shoved backward. I am halfway to the door when I hear my name.
    “Kailey, right?” says Cyrus, peering at the seating chart. “Please stay a moment.”

twenty-four
     
    Caught. The word echoes in my head till it dissolves into nonsense. I glance down at Kailey’s pretty white dress and worry, irrationally, about it being ruined when Cyrus begins punishing me. White dress, white snow, red blood.
    I approach his desk. For a long minute he doesn’t speak. He stares at my wrists. I cross my arms over my chest, willing him to say what he has to say. His gaze follows my hands. “Mr. Shaw?” I prompt, playing along with his game. I have no other choice.
    “Right, sorry. I was just thinking.” He smiles that brilliant, icy smile, revealing perfect white teeth. “Kailey, what did you think of class today?”
    Class? He’s playing with me, like a cat with its prey. “I . . . thought it was interesting.”
    “Did you? Because you didn’t appear to be paying attention.” His tone is stern. “And if you don’t find the material interesting, I’m not doing my job.”
    I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I—”
    “No need to apologize. Truly, it’s my fault. I promise that future classes will be far more engaging. But this isn’t why I asked you to stay.” He leans back in his chair and holds his hands together in his lap. His expression softens.
    “The school administrators mentioned to me that there was a female student who had been in a terrible car accident recently. And naturally, I’m very concerned.” His eyes—ice blue—watch me carefully for any reaction.
    He’s lying. I’m certain no one at the school knows about the accident. “Who was it?” I ask, my voice stronger now.
    He sighs. “They didn’t tell me. It’s infuriating, really. Post-traumatic stress, even brain damage, can show up weeks after an event like that. I need to know who it is so I can be sure to watch out for signs of trouble.” This strikes me as a strange thing for a teacher to say. But any other student would probably accept it at face value, would think he was perfectly caring and concerned. But I know him, and I sense the quivering rage lying just beneath the surface of his words.
    But he really, truly doesn’t know who was in the crash. This gives me strength. “I haven’t heard about any car accidents,” I lie smoothly.
    “No? Perhaps the girl hasn’t told her friends. I want you to think hard. Anyone been acting strange lately? Done things that are out of character?” He leans forward, watching, always watching.
    I will my face to remain composed. I look up at the window, pretend to think. “Well, Nicole’s been very sensitive lately. But I don’t think she was in an accident.”
    “Nicole?” he asks, studying the seating chart.
    “Nicole Harrison.” I point out her name. “Long dark hair? Sits right behind me?”
    “Long dark hair,” he repeats. His expression brightens. “Yes, I remember her. Thank you, Kailey. You’ve done the right thing by telling me. It may be nothing, but I couldn’t live with myself if I missed the chance to help a student.” I feel a flash of guilt about offering up her name, but Cyrus will learn soon enough that she’s just a regular high schooler. But it’ll distract him, and what I need now is time—and to throw him off my track.
    I glance at the clock on the wall behind him, but the time is all wrong. I pull out Kailey’s iPhone to check the time. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go,” I say, smiling apologetically. “I’m late for English.”
    He doesn’t say anything for a moment. He’s looking at my phone. He chuckles. “Isn’t it funny how we tell time with those things? No one wears watches anymore. Although it seems that you usually do?”
    What an odd question. I look down at my bare wrist. There is a pale circle around it, visible in Kailey’s