Only now, seeing him watch the bus pull away, does a thought strike me like lightning.

I wasn’t live. It wasn’t Monday. So how did Jamie know Michael was outside my window? And why the hell did he have a hammer?

Chapter 62

We drive through huge iron gates and down a gravel path, and then someone gasps and Emily says, “This is, like, my ideal wedding venue.”

From outside, it’s red and big and not what I pictured when I thought monastery. It looks like the luxury houses from boring TV shows—the definition of “grand.”

We’ve seen pictures online and on the PowerPoint Mr. Humphries showed us in class, but they didn’t look like this.

At the front doors, a guy stands, arms crossed and smiling, and when we get out, he says, “Welcome to Mayfield Lodge. My name is Tim.”

Mr. Humphries shakes his hand, then stares up at the house and smiles. He looks happier than he ever does at school.

Behind me, Jennifer Erswell is giggling, saying what she would like to do to this Tim guy, and Emily makes a face, because she secretly hates her.

“Okay,” Mr. Humphries says. “Hand over your phones.”

There’s a collective “What?” but he looks serious and says, “House rules. If I’d told you to leave them at home, you’d have sneaked them in.”

Tim holds out a box, and one by one, we give him our phones while Mr. Humphries watches.

When we’re done, Tim grins and says, “Grab your bags, and we’ll show you to your rooms.”

Inside, there are dark-brown beams stretched high across the ceiling and a floor glistening with polish.

“It’s fucking awesome,” someone mutters.

Mr. Humphries turns and says, “There will be none of that here. Have some respect.”

Along one wall, a line of people stand smiling at us, and one at a time, they step forward and take our hands.

The girl in between me and Emily says, “Hello. I’m Saffron. Follow me.”

Emily gives me a look, and I shrug, and then we’re being led down a hallway and up the stairs.

I know I’m being quiet, but I’m still thinking about Jamie and the hammer. Luckily, Emily talks enough for both of us.

At the end of the hallway, Saffron says, “Here you are.”

The room is basic, two beds and a sink and a desk, and Emily claims the bed by the window, then turns to Saffron and says, “I like this place.”

She smiles and shows us the bathrooms and the fire exit. The showers are just holes in the floor surrounded by thin plastic curtains.

“So…do you live here?” Emily asks.

“For now,” says Saffron.