Page 10 of Lessons in Power

A second later, someone called out, “I nominate John Thomas Wilcox.”

The lacrosse player who’d been so fond of hazing—until I’d shut him down—seconded the nomination.

“I am John Thomas Wilcox,” John Thomas said, with what passed as a good-natured grin, “and I accept this nomination.”

That got a few snickers.

“The floor remains open,” the headmaster declared. “Do we have a third nomination?”

Emilia shot laser eyes at me. After returning her glare, I stood up.

“Ms. Kendrick,” the headmaster said. “Err … Keyes,” he corrected himself. “Tess.”

My last name was still a matter of some contention.

“Do you have a nomination?” Raleigh asked me.

I avoided looking at Henry as I answered, “I nominate Emilia Rhodes.”

CHAPTER 7

“Blackmail or bribe?” Asher caught up to me on the way back to the main building after chapel let out.

I didn’t answer.

“Blackmail or bribe?” Asher repeated. “Because I have some serious doubts that you were overcome by a swell of civic admiration for my twin, lovely though she may be.”

Right now,lovelywasn’t a word I would have used to describe Emilia Rhodes.

“My dearest, darling sister didn’t happen to mention she was running against Henry, did she?” Asher asked.

“She left that tidbit out,” I said dryly.

Vivvie popped up on my other side. “Henry’s been our class president since kindergarten. Everyone figured he was a shoo-in for student-body president this year.”

“You guys had a class president in kindergarten?” I asked incredulously.

Asher nodded. “Henry was the only five-year-old to run on a three-pronged platform.”

I honestly couldn’t tell if Asher was joking or not.

“The third prong,” Asher continued, “was cookies.”

We hit the door to the main building a second before the art teacher came striding out. “Inside,” he called. “Get to class, everyone.” The teacher’s whole body was as tight as a rubber band on the verge of snapping.

We crossed the threshold into the building. All up and down the main corridor, teachers were ushering students into classrooms. A feeling of unease slithered down my spine.

No matter what you see, no matter what you hear—

Henry appeared beside me. From the expression on his face, it was clear that student council elections were the last thing on his mind. His jaw muscles were tensed, brown skin pulled taut across his cheekbones, his full lips set into a grim line.

“What’s going on?” I asked him as we stepped into the classroom. I could hear murmurs all around me, was vaguely aware of the teacher telling us to take our seats—but my attention was focused on Henry.

Wordlessly, he passed his cell phone to me. I forced myself to look at the screen.

BOMB DETONATES IN DC HOSPITAL

The headline froze the air in my lungs. I couldn’t inhale. I couldn’t exhale.