“Okay. Thanks,” I say, feeling a renewed sense of hope. Maybe there’s still a way to solve this without it becoming a huge mess.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out to silence it and see that I have notifications for a series of WizConnect messages from Brittany.

I really need to talk to you.

Just the two of us.

Come to my house tomorrow.

Please.

“Oh my god,” I say, slumping over the prep table.

“What’s up?” Lex asks.

I stare at the messages from Brittany, letting out a long breath. If I have another chance to talk to her, I should take it. I might still be able to convince her to come forward.

“Brittany just messaged me. I think . . . I think I’m going to go meet her tomorrow,” I say, hoping that saying it out loud will make me more confident about the idea. Instead I’m hit with a whole new wave of doubts. “What do you think she wants?”

Lex leans over my shoulder to read the texts. “I don’t know,” she says, shaking her head. “I can’t tell the vibe from these messages.”

“Yeah, me neither,” I say, tapping out my response. I message Brittany to tell her that I can talk to her tomorrow. She replies right away, and we arrange to meet in the afternoon. It’s the most civil interaction I’ve ever had with Brittany. I can only hope that tomorrow goes similarly.

I sleep deeply that night, which is entirely because of the sleep potion I dab under my nose before going to bed. When Lex picks me up to drive me to Brittany’s house, she’s on speakerphone with one of the previous scholarship winners, Sarah Newkirk. Sarah seems to be . . . talkative.

“We weren’t that close, but I always wished we were!” Sarah says. “He was such a nice guy. He wrote one of my friends a recommendation letter that she swears was the reason she got into such good colleges. I mean, I wasn’t one of his favorites. But whatever. Turned out okay for me!”

“Who do you—” Lex starts to say, but Sarah keeps talking over her. Lex shakes her head resignedly, and I get the sense that this has happened several times already. I click my seat belt in as quietly as I can.

“I still got to go to Willington, so it’s all worth it. You know, there are four of us here right now. The Brockton Scholarship witches!”

“Who—” Lex tries again.

“I was thinking that we should all get together or something—” Sarah continues.

“Who were his favorites when you were in high school?” Lex says firmly.

“Who? Mr. B’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, Lydia Sackett for sure. She didn’t do drama, but her friends did, so she spent a bunch of time in his classroom. I think he liked her because she was such a suck-up.”