Page 12 of Artifice (Pros and Cons Mysteries #4)

H ow long had Olive been pounding on the door and shouting for help?

It felt like hours when in reality, she’d guess, it had maybe been five or ten minutes.

She’d never thought of herself as being scared of dark, confined spaces. But right now, she couldn’t breathe.

She paused from pounding the door and leaned against it instead, her forehead resting on the thick wood.

In and out, Olive. In and out.

After going through the breathing routine for several minutes, her nerves settled—but only slightly.

You’ll eventually be found. You won’t die in here.

If nothing else, Tevin would come looking for her.

But no one here should want Olive dead. As far as she knew, no one knew who she really was or why she was here. Most likely, she’d been locked in here as a prank, probably by one of the school’s students.

If that was the case, wouldn’t Director Ingraham come searching for Olive? It seemed as if the woman would.

Olive pressed her ear against the door, trying to listen to what was going on in the hallway.

When she’d come in here, the class only had fifteen minutes until it was done. She hadn’t heard the scurry of students outside yet.

That meant it probably hadn’t even been ten minutes. That also meant that eventually Olive should hear students going from class to class.

Even if any of them heard her, would they actually open the door? Certainly they’d been instructed to leave this room alone.

It didn’t matter. As soon as Olive heard anyone in that hallway, she’d do whatever she could to get their attention.

Finally, a bell sounded, followed by the murmur of voices and footsteps.

Using all the strength in her, Olive pounded at the door and began to yell. “Help! Let me out of here! I’m not a student.”

She continued ramming her fists against the door.

But nothing happened.

Why wasn’t anyone responding?

Olive could only imagine the fear the students must feel when they were in here with no one to hear their cries either.

A sudden, horrifying thought hit her.

What if the students were restrained? Then they couldn’t even bang on the door.

Her heart rate quickened again as panic filled her. “Help!”

She continued pelting the door with her fists.

Finally, she heard someone outside the room. A deeper voice. “Are you locked in there?”

“Yes, I’m not a student here. Please, help me!”

Things went quiet.

All she heard was her heart pounding in her ears. Her labored breathing.

Then the door rattled.

Her lungs froze with anticipation.

But it didn’t open.

“Hold on a minute,” the same voice said from the other side. “I’m going to get you out. I just need to grab a key first.”

Maybe this person really would get her out of here.

But in the meantime, Olive felt as if she wanted to crawl out of her skin.

After what felt like hours had passed, the door rattled again.

The hallway had quieted, meaning students were probably back in class.

But, thankfully, the man who’d spoken to her through the door might be back.

“One second,” the same deep voice said.

More rattling.

Then the door opened, and light blinded her.

Olive nearly fell from the room and right into the man’s arms.

She could hardly catch her breath as her adrenaline crashed, morphing into muscle-wilting relief.

“Are you okay?” The man gripped her arms as if he knew her legs might not hold her up.

Olive finally looked up at his face.

It was . . . Simon. The man from The Salty Kettle.

His face registered surprise also. “You? We meet again.”

Olive drew in another shaky breath. “Yes, we do.”

Just then, Margaret came into focus from behind him.

Olive squared her shoulders and tried to compose herself.

“What is that room?” She nodded behind her. “Do you really put students in there?”

Margaret glanced around as if she didn’t appreciate Olive’s tone. “It’s the Quiet Room.”

“There are handcuffs. Stains. And it smells like urine.”

Margaret’s face remained stubbornly set with no sign of apology. “It’s one of the methods we use when our students are defiant. It seems harsh, but it’s a necessary evil. What were you doing in there anyway? You were supposed to remain in the classroom until I returned.”

“Don’t try to deflect.” Olive shook her head, unable to ease the panic she’d felt. “I demand answers.”

Margaret glanced around again as if she didn’t like to be defied in public. “Maybe we could talk about this somewhere more private.”

“Right now, I just need some air.” Olive took a step and wobbled.

Simon grabbed her arm to steady her. “I’ll walk with you—just for safety.”

Simon nodded at Margaret as if giving her a silent assurance he’d handle this.

But there was no handling this. That room was unacceptable.

Olive would have a hard time keeping her cover knowing that room even existed.