Page 108 of For Your Own Good

It’s about time.

Teddy gets up and goes to the kitchen. As he pours himself another glass of milk—a rarity, given his lactose issues—he wonders how long it will take before the next breaking news announcement. Because they have to blame it on somebody.

Good thing Teddy made it easy for them.

66

FALLON TELLS HERSELFto go to the police. Repeatedly.

Yet she hasn’t done it.

Instead, she stays in her apartment, staring at the ceiling. She thinks about everything that could happen if she goes to the police.

Because Teddy isn’t just an arrogant prick. He’s also smart. If she brings the video to the police, he’s going to turn it around on her.

The video is fake. It’s been doctored. Just look at who gave it to you. Fallon Knight hates me because of a reference letter. Here, see these emails she sent to me? See where she called me a “piece of shit”?

Her motivations will be questioned, along with her character.

If the situation were reversed, she’d defend herself the same way. By attacking him.

Or maybe she’s wrong. Maybe Teddy snuck into the school for a completely different reason. Maybe he had to get something and forgot his key card and didn’t want to go all the way home to get it.

That would make her feel incredibly stupid.

The police would think she was an idiot, too.

Another option: Put it on social media. Let the court of public opinion decide. But would they recognize Teddy? Would they know who he is?

After that TV interview, they would. And the media is always quick to convict someone—usually before they’re arrested.

But when she thinks it through, it always ends with someone figuring out she’s the one who leaked it. Fallon would end up right back where she doesn’t want to be: in the spotlight, with her motives questioned. She’s no computer expert. If there’s a way to hide the source of the video, she has no idea how to do it.

All of which brings her full circle, right back to her original thought.

It takes a while for her to get out of bed. Once she does, it feels like she’s on autopilot. Shower, makeup, hair. Nice clothes—her only nice clothes, left over from her previous life. Before she was rejected everywhere, before she flunked out of school.

One final glance in the mirror before leaving. She can’t decide if she looks like herself or like an imposter.

It’s dark out now, after dinnertime, and the drive feels long. Canary Lane, the house at the end. That’s what everyone calls it, the big house at the end of Canary Lane.

Her parents’ house.

They don’t know she’s back. She never told them, never came to visit. They think she’s still in school at State. Never told them about that, either. Her name hasn’t been in the news—none of the victims have been named yet, except for the headmaster. Everyone at the school knows who was poisoned, but it hasn’t been in the media.

Well, except for Teddy. But only because he went on TV to talk about it.

Halfway up the driveway, she stops the car. She imagines herself as a child, locked in her room until her homework was done. Fallon used to sit at her desk, tears streaming down her face, vision blurred, trying so hard to get everything finished before bedtime. At first, she failed. Then she gotbetter. Eventually, she became smarter. Figured out the shortcuts. She had to make her parents happy somehow.

She also imagines explaining why she came back, and why she’s teaching at Belmont. Why she placed a camera in Teddy’s classroom, not to mention outside his house.

She sees her mother. Elegant, refined, and disappointed. Always disappointed.

And her father. Tall, commanding, almost godlike. When he shakes his head at her, it feels like a curse.

She knows what he’s going to say:

Are you still blaming other people for your failures?