“I’ve met all of my commitments,” I go on, speaking over him. Rude again. “I completed all my holiday reading preparations. I’m not housebound, I’m not antisocial, I’m not in tears. I feel fine.”

I do feel as though if I’m not excused to go to bed within the next two minutes, my eyeballs might detach themselves altogether, fall backward into my skull, and tumble right down my throat. But I digress.

The headmaster has that look about him. The one adults wear when they’re quite certain they know your inner world much more intimately than you ever could. “Are you happy, though?”

I’d be happier if I were asleep. “Of course I am.”

He stares at me, studying my face. If I thought a smile would help my case right now, I’d force one, but somehow I think it would read slightly false.

“Whatever you need, Rose,” he says finally. “If you want to take me up on the offer, or if there’s anything I can do…”

“Thank you, sir,” I say, hardly daring to hope the meeting is at its end. But then, glorious days, he dismisses me, and I lurch through the door before he can change his mind and all but sprint to Dewitt. Sidney, who was stationed outside the headmaster’s office that whole time, follows after me, and then heads into his own room down the hall. He probably needs a nap of his own at this point. His shift commenced in the middle of the night, when he escorted me to school from the palace.

My room was set up by some of the palace staff while I was at the gala. When I arrived in the night, I was far too tired to take any of it in. In fairness, I’m still far too tired, but with the afternoon light streaming through the parted curtains it’s hard to miss the details now.

The charcoal bedsheets are brand-new and rumpled from my brief time in them this morning. My bedside table bears the same stained-glass lamp as last year, and the photo collage Eleanor made for my birthday hangs cheerfully above the bed. Two dozen unknowing smiles to mock me from above as I sleep, just what the decor called for. The photos are familiar—Molly and me, side by side on the bus on the way to a school soccer match. Eleanor, Molly, and me at last year’s formal. Alfie, Florence, and Harriet, laughing at something, drinks in their hands. Oscar, Molly, and me sitting around a table at Molly’s birthday dinner.

I wrench my shirt over my head, pull off my skirt, then step onto the bed and unhook the collage. I slide it down the side of the bed, and it scrapes the wall on the way down until it hits the carpet with a thud. Then, I collapse face down onto my pillow.