Lex gives me a look and shakes her head. “I talked to her,” she whispers in my ear. “Nothing there.”

“And that freshman. What was her name? Brittany?” Sarah continues. “Her parents were getting a super-nasty divorce, and they would leave her at school for hours. I used to go home late after cheer practice, and she would still be there, just sitting in the parking lot. She would glare at you as you walked by, like you were being mean just by looking at her. Anyway, I think she started hanging out in his room after school when she got the lead in the spring musical, and then everyone knew she was set for the scholarship.”

Lex thanks her for chatting with her, which is when I learn that she apparently told Sarah she was doing interviews about the Brockton Scholarship for some sort of T. K. Anderson alumni newsletter. They hang up soon after that. “Okay, I’ve got bad news, and I’ve got more bad news,” she says, reversing the car out of the parking space.

“What other kind is there these days?” I say.

“So I’ve talked to most of the witches who’ve won the scholarship—”

“How?” I say incredulously. “It’s barely been a day.”

Lex flips her hair over her shoulder. “I’m very persistent and good at stalking people online.” She sobers abruptly. “So the bad news is that I found someone who was also groomed by Mr. B. Her name is Meredith. She graduated five years ago.”

“Okay,” I say, sighing. I have a dim memory of him mentioning her for some reason.

“The worse news is that she told the school about what happened years ago, and they didn’t do anything about it.”

I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. “Shit.”

“Yeah, I know.” Lex slaps her turn signal violently. “Apparently the principal told her they were investigating for a while, but then it just never really went anywhere.”

“Oh my god, it feels like this is all totally pointless,” I say, putting my head in my hands.

“Maybe it’ll be different if multiple people come forward?” Lex says, but it doesn’t sound like she fully believes that. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Yeah,” I say, even though I’m not sure we will. I glance down at my phone, where there’s a text from Ana waiting on the screen. A little rush of warmth fills me as I read it.

ANA: let me know how it goes with Brittany ♥

The drive to Brittany’s house takes a while, so I have plenty of time to contemplate possible horror scenarios for this visit. Maybe Brittany will slip a potion in my drink and poison me while I’m there. Or maybe she’ll try to fire-punch me again. Or maybe Mr. B will pop out of a closet in her house and transfigure me into stone.