She clears her voice to start. “I both wished and feared to see Mr. Rochester on the day which followed this sleepless night: I wanted to hear his voice again, yet feared to meet his eye. During the early part of the morning, I momentarily expected his coming; he was not in the frequent habit of entering the schoolroom, but he did step in for a few minutes sometimes, and I had the impression that he . . .”

“Hey. Hey, Adele . . .” A voice interrupts Lottie’s reading, and I look up in frustration. Surely, Rochester will come and see Jane soon—especially after she saved him from that mad servant with the mad laugh.

Beatrice and the other girl, Ramona, stand side by side in the circle of shade. I’m certain Delia has warned them against talking to us, and I’m curious to know why they are taking the risk anyway.

“Is it true?” Beatrice asks.

“Is what true?” I say.

“That you and Lottie started the fire behind the school shop.”

Lottie and I exchange glances.

“Who told you that?” My shoulders go tight, and Lottie’s fingers grip Jane Eyre so hard that I’m afraid she’ll rip a page.

“No one.” Beatrice bites her thumbnail. “It’s just . . . it’s just we heard that no way could the fire have spread from the bush near the sports field to the bush behind the classrooms. Unless . . .”

“The two of you started it by yourselves,” Ramona says, finishing for Beatrice. “That’s what we heard.”

“From Delia?” Lottie demands, and the pets flush red.

I’m angry, too, but it’s bad manners to ask Beatrice and Ramona to name names. Lottie is all fists. She doesn’t know that this situation calls for soft words.

“Why did we start the fire?” I ask in the sweet voice I use when Father comes to visit and I’m the loveliest daughter in all of southern Africa. The girls hesitate, and I say, “Tell me what you heard. No hard feelings, hey.”

“Well . . .” Beatrice looks over her shoulder, nervous at being caught talking to the enemy. “You’ve got nothing that makes you special, so you started the fire to get attention . . .”

“Plus,” Ramona pipes in, “both your mothers are squint-eyed sluts who got no class and—”

“Shut up.” Beatrice slaps Ramona’s arm.