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The weight of the stars, of the universe, and of her mind were like an anchor pulling her closer toward oblivion.
“It never looked as terrible as it was and it made her wonder if hell was a pretty place too. Fire and brimstone all right, but hidden in lacy gloves.” —Beloved, Toni Morrison
Sade had read up on the school’s houses. All eight of them: Curie, Einstein, Hawking, Mendel, Franklin, Turing, Jemison, and Seacole.
Sade had read up on Turing House briefly. It had been described as the house for the jack-of-all-traders, students with no particular special interest in any one subject; sister house to Seacole; and unlike most of the other houses, Turing had produced the least famous alumni.
“And the one in the middle is their leader, April Owens—she actually used to be Elizabeth’s roommate.”
It was like constantly being haunted by herself, with no reprieve from the ghosts inside her.
Not all her feelings reflected reality and not everyone needed saving.
“How does access to other houses work? If I made a friend in another house, could I just visit anytime?” Ms. Thistle nodded. “You are allowed to visit other houses before curfew. Sometimes the door might be closed—in which case someone will need to let you in, but if it’s open and it’s before curfew, then you certainly can!” Sade gave her a smile. “That’s very useful to know. Thank you, Ms. Thistle.”
“They say terrible things are done in darkness, but terrible things are also done in a light too blinding for anyone else to look at directly.” —Dear Senthuran, Akwaeke Emezi
“That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain.”
April wasn’t smiling along and laughing with the boys in the photo like Sade had originally thought. She was barely conscious. April had been drugged too.
Francis continued. “Listen, I won’t blame you if you decide to turn me in. I wanted to turn myself in; the guilt was eating away at me, but April wouldn’t let me. She said it would kill her. Which I don’t get. I’m not sure why she likes me. I’m a good-for-nothing addict, and yet she does. She sees me and I see her. April means the world to me, so I let her go.” His voice broke at the end of his confession and he repeated I let her go softly to himself. Then he roughly wiped his face, swearing under his breath. “I’m not going to stop you, but I ask that you think of April in your decision,
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Keep swimming. Or if that’s too hard, at the very least, float.
