A thousand years ago, I imagine Taylor saying, and I struggle to keep my face motionless, push down the wild urge to laugh. Katherine squeezes my hand, and I shake my head the tiniest bit, looking at the neat creases on the dean’s navy slacks instead of at her.

“Could I understand that?” the dean says.

No, I think, still swallowing the panic-laughing.

“Perhaps,” he goes on, and then sighs. “What I don’t understand is three girls sneaking out after hours to turn private school property into a strip club.” His voice hasn’t changed—steady, musical. Kind. But he throws the last two words down with a thud.

I am on my feet before I know what I’m doing, my head roaring.

“No!” I shout, then lower my voice, willing it not to tremble. “No, that’s not—”

“Ms. Grant!” he snaps. “Sit down!”

“Dean Pembrooke,” I say, swallowing. “I don’t know what you think—”

“I think, if I’m not mistaken, that the three of you were taking off your clothes in front of an audience and charging money?”

I open my mouth but nothing comes out, and in my head Taylor’s voice says well, technically, and then Nevaeh and Katherine are standing, Katherine’s shoulder against mine and her voice steely.

“Who claimed we were doing a strip show?” she demands.

Now the dean is up on his feet, jabbing a finger at us, his mouth tight.

“Sit down. Right now. All three of you.”

We look at one another, stand there for a moment longer, until he snaps, “Now.” And then we sink back onto our chairs. He stalks around to the other side of the desk and snatches up a sheet of paper to gesture with.

“It has come to my attention that you three girls violated curfew, broke your dorm bylaws, broke into and entered school property, in order to illegally charge fellow students for a sex show—”

“That is a lie,” Nevaeh says, leaning forward.

“Watch your tone,” the dean snaps at her.

“Where did you get this information?” I say desperately, but he ignores me.

“I have never, in all my years here, encountered such an egregious violation of school rules and school conduct, standards, and principles.”

“No,” I say, razor-throated.

“I am shocked. And I am sorry to hear that any of my students would do such a thing. Violate the code of ethics in such a reckless manner,” he says. “And not just violate it. Flaunt your violation.”

“Who claims we were—we were running a sex show?” Katherine says, swallowing.

He looks at her for a long moment. “You’re going to claim otherwise, I see,” he says.

“It was not a sex show—” I say, my voice raised, before I can stop myself. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He smiles at me.

“Well, then. In my judgment, the accusation brought to me against you is credible, Ms. Grant. All of you.”

I swallow.