The Garden of Dead Dreams by Abby Quillen Read Free Book Online Page B

in his jacket and continued shuffling through his pocket.
    The director pulled cards from his pocket, glanced at them, and slid them back in, dropping his hand to his side. “I thought I had . . . in any event, if there are no further questions, I will call this meeting to an end with a reminder for everyone to be vigilant. If anything strikes you as out of place in any way, it is imperative that you report to me immediately.”
    Edwin Hardin stepped away from the hearth and made a beeline for the staircase. The room swelled with a cacophony of voices. Olivia had volunteered? Etta slumped against the back of her chair. Liv liked to cook? Etta could hardly prepare a ham sandwich and had once started a fire while boiling eggs. At home she ate as many dinners as possible at a restaurant or out of a take-out box. Of course, how hard could party food be? Anyone could arrange carrots and celery on a platter.
    “I suppose you will be curtailing your solo runs.”
    Etta jerked her head toward Chase, but he was no longer in his chair. Reed Morinsky stood in front of Etta gazing at her through his wire spectacles.
    “Oh, hello Reed.”
    There was a red lump on the end of Reed’s long nose that Etta hadn’t noticed earlier. She shifted her eyes away, and glimpsed Carl leaning on the doorway to the dining room. Robert North glided up beside him. Robert North gestured as he talked to the chef. Carl laughed.
    “Is that satisfactory?”
    Etta turned back to Reed, who was staring at her expectantly. Had he asked her a question? Etta nodded.
    “Excellent. Shall we start Wednesday?
    “Wednesday?”
    “It’s the day after the equinox. We will not have any classes in observance of the end of the first quarter. And the dramatic production will be over, so I shall have more time for other pursuits. I should alert you, however, my cross-country team in high school called me Cockroach. Of course, you should not concern yourself about falling behind; I shall not leave your side, with Galen roaming the woods.”
    “Cockroach?” Etta giggled. “They called you a cockroach?”
    “Yes. Cockroaches hold the record for the fastest land insect. The Periplaneta americana has been clocked running four point nine feet per second.”
    Etta tried to stifle her laugh and managed another nod.
    Reed grinned, revealing his gapped front teeth. Etta’s eyes went again to the red spot on the end of his nose. “I must excuse myself,” he said. “I’m assisting the major with the cataloging project, and I have a thousand words to compose tonight to reach my daily quota.”
    Etta nodded, but the mention of writing made her feel short of breath. The equinox party was tomorrow. And then she had five days until her critique.
    Reed threaded around the groups of students clustered in front of the staircase. None of them said hello or seemed to notice him pass. Did Reed have any friends at the academy? Etta couldn’t remember seeing him with anyone. What would it hurt to go running with him?
    Pari and Hillary stood talking at the foot of the staircase. Hillary’s pale face looked even more washed out than usual, her eyes watery. Etta should have asked Reed to fill her in on what she’d missed at the beginning of Hardin’s speech.
    Carl. Etta could ask Carl. She swirled toward the doorway to the dining room. But the chef and Robert North were gone. Carl had probably returned to the kitchen.
    Etta made a beeline for the dining room. As she stepped inside, she halted, blinking to adjust her eyes to the darkness. She wound around a few tables then froze.
    A voice eased from under the kitchen door—shrill and high-pitched. A woman. And she sounded angry. But Etta couldn’t make out her words. Etta stepped toward the door, wincing at the squeak of her hiking boots against the wood floor.
    “This is dangerous. I don’t think you understand how much trouble . . .” This voice was male. He didn’t sound angry. More pleading. Scared. Etta took another step