Projection (6 page)

Plotinus let out a deep, hearty chuckle. “I said that your father surely must love your sister more, because the husband he chose for her is rich and handsome, while the one he chose for you is just rich.”

Amphiclea’s mouth fell open. “Can it really be?” she whispered. She looked back at Gemina, who was still standing under the oculus. Her eyes shone in the moonlight, but
they looked duller somehow, as if something had been extinguished inside of her. Gemina took a step closer to her.

“She speaks the truth. It is I, Plotinus, in this woman’s body. You are witness to something extraordinary, Amphiclea. Do not forget what we discussed earlier. You alone know the truth.”

Amphiclea felt dizzy, and her heart began to beat in triple time. She looked again at Plotinus.
Is he really Gemina? But how?
The words spun in her head. And suddenly, everything went black.

Gretchen tried to read
the Wikipedia pages that Jessica had laid out on her desk, but she couldn’t focus on the words. The names were all so confusing, and the philosophical explanations were so dense that she was having a hard time wrapping her brain around it all. She took a deep breath and tried again, reading from the beginning.

Gretchen looked up, bewildered and just the slightest bit angry. “Jessica, I can’t read this right now. I’m sorry. You can’t tell me that my mother had some mystical power and
was trading souls with Tina Holt, then say that you think your aunt had something to do with my mother’s murder, and then hand me a stack of boring pages to read. I need you to tell me what you’re talking about. I need you to tell me
now
.”

Jessica seemed to waver, then gave in with a sigh. “Okay, okay.” She sat down on the edge of Gretchen’s bed. “After your mom died, things got really crazy. There was an emergency meeting of the Oculus Society to discuss, like, what kinds of flowers we were going to send to the funeral home and who was going to make meals for you and your dad the first few weeks. Then, about two weeks ago, we had the regular, monthly meeting. I thought maybe you would come—”

“I’m not ready,” Gretchen interrupted. “I just can’t handle seeing all of those moms and daughters together right now. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to handle it.”

“I know,” Jessica said, patting her on the arm. “I know it’s so hard, Gretch, but I swear to you, it does get easier. It never gets easy, but it will become easier than it is right now.”

“I wish I believed you,” she said. Gretchen gulped down the lump in her throat. “Anyway, go on. What happened at the meeting?”

“Well, nothing really. I mean, everything seemed normal, but then when it was over, Michelle came to me and said that I was needed for something. She took me to this back room that I didn’t even know existed. Tina Holt and a few of the other, older members were sitting behind a long table, and they were wearing white robes, and it was all really, really creepy. And they tell me about this secret—they call it the Plotinus Ability—and how they’re members of a secret board that is charged with protecting it. And then they tell me that you were next in line to get it.”

“Me!” Gretchen exclaimed. “Why me?”

“Okay, stay with me for a minute. Your mom, I guess, was finished with being the
Odeetees
. I don’t know why; they didn’t get into it. But for the last few months she had changed her role in the whole thing. Instead of being the one who projects, she became the
mártyras
—the witness. The one who watches the other two project and makes sure that everything goes smoothly.”

“And who were the other two?” Gretchen asked.

“Well, it was still Tina Holt and then also Joan Hedley.”

“Joan Hedley!” Gretchen shouted. Joan Hedley was the quietest, meekest woman she’d ever met. Joan Hedly blushed every time she opened her mouth to speak; how could she kiss another woman? Gretchen just couldn’t believe what Jessica was telling her right now. But it was obvious that Jessica did. A chill went down Gretchen’s spine.
What did they do to her in that ceremony?
she wondered.
What did they say to make her believe this craziness?

“Anyway,” Jessica went on, “it was only supposed to be a temporary arrangement, until the board decided who was going to be chosen next. Your mom, I guess, had lobbied really hard that it should be you. She felt it was time to bring in some new blood, to get the next generation involved. And your mom felt that you were the best candidate. You know, winner of the Plotinus Award at graduation and all that. They were going to tell you this summer.”

Gretchen’s eyes got watery again.
Things are going to happen to you
, she heard her mother’s voice say.
Things you can’t even imagine
.

“So why haven’t they told me?” Gretchen wanted to know.

Jessica lowered her eyes. “Well, I guess some of the board members weren’t sure if you were ready. They didn’t know
if you would be able to handle the responsibility right now since you’re, you know, emotionally distraught or whatever.”

Gretchen sniffed. “Who’s on this board, exactly?”

“Well, that’s the thing. It’s Tina Holt, obviously, and your mom was on it, and Joan Hedley, of course. And then there’s also Kristen Renwick, and …” Jessica paused.

“Your aunt,” Gretchen guessed.

“Yes,” Jessica said. “But there’s one other person, too.”

“And who’s that?”

Jessica closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them to meet Gretchen’s searching gaze. “Me.”

“You! I don’t understand. How come you never told me about this? How could you keep something like that from me?”

Jessica shook her head. “I didn’t keep it from you. It just happened that night. I just told you: they called me into the room out of the blue, and they told me that I had been chosen to be on the board. They made me take an oath of secrecy and everything. That’s why I haven’t called you or answered any of your texts. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I should tell you, but they made me swear not to say anything to anyone. And I didn’t know how you’d react. I mean, don’t you think I know how crazy all of this sounds? But you’re my best friend, Gretchen. If it were me, I’d want you to tell me the truth.”

Gretchen had to sit down. This was all too much … too much. “So let me get this straight,” she said slowly. “The board chose you to fill the seat that was left behind by my mother, and then you all discussed whether or not I was emotionally capable of inheriting the Plotinus Ability? And where did you come out on that?”

“I said you were fine!” Jessica insisted. “I said that if it was what your mother wanted, then we should respect her wishes! I was on your side!” Jessica took a deep breath. Her
face was red, and her hands were shaking. “At first everyone agreed with me. Joan, Kristen, Tina, all of them. But then Michelle got up and started arguing that you couldn’t possibly be stable enough to handle it. They asked me what my impressions were, and I told them that you were a strong person and that you would be fine. But Michelle wouldn’t let it go. She kept insisting that it wasn’t in your best interest right now, and she managed to convince Tina and Kristen. It was three against two.”

“And that’s why you think Michelle had something to do with the murder?”

Jessica nodded. “But it’s not just that. After it was settled that it wasn’t going to be you, we had to decide who it would be. And guess who didn’t hesitate to volunteer?”

Gretchen shrugged. “Okay, so she wanted to be the one to get this … this power or whatever. So what? That doesn’t mean she killed my mom.”

“I can’t explain it, Gretch. She was so forceful about the whole thing. It was like she had planned it all out: your mom dying, getting you ousted as her successor, and then volunteering to take your place. I just have a bad feeling about it.”

Gretchen picked up a strand of hair and twirled it around her finger. She couldn’t help thinking that everyone in the Oculus Society—or at least the people on this “secret board”—had gone completely insane.
They have so much real power in this town. They’ve somehow convinced themselves that they’ve got magical powers now, too
.

“Okay. Let’s say you’re right. Let’s say that Michelle really believes this magical power exists, and she wanted it so badly that she was willing to kill my mother for it. What are we supposed to do? Go to the police? They’d never believe us, and you’d get kicked out of the Oculus Society for telling them.”

“No, we obviously couldn’t tell the police. We’d have to find evidence first and then go to them with that. But at least I have a lead.”

Gretchen shook her head stubbornly. “I have a lead, too. And her name is Ariel Miller.”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “You’re still on that? Gretch, nobody saw her that night. She wasn’t there.”

“
I
saw her. I know she had something to do with it, Jessica. I can’t prove it yet, but God help me, I will.” She crossed her arms. “You have your bad feelings, I have mine. What’s harder to believe, anyway? That a girl who hates me killed my mom, or that my mom was killed over some make-believe secret power?”

Jessica tapped her index finger on the desk, bouncing it up and down over and over and over again in quick, even bursts. Then she stopped. “Maybe there’s a way for both of us to confirm our suspicions.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“I didn’t finish telling you about the Plotinus Ability.”

“Does it really matter? You said they gave it to Michelle.”

Jessica shook her head. “No. I said that Michelle volunteered.”

Gretchen arched an eyebrow. “But they didn’t give it to her?”

“Nope. They gave it to me.”

Gretchen paced back and
forth in her room, tears stinging her eyes as she replayed the fight in her head. She’d kicked Jessica out, told her she couldn’t handle this right now—couldn’t handle
her
right now. And of course Jessica had cried.
Gretchen, you don’t understand. I just want to help you
.

Well, boo-freaking-hoo
, Gretchen thought, continuing the argument in her mind.
You ignore me for weeks and then come in here with this crazy story about trading souls and my mother kissing Tina Holt, and now suddenly you’re the one who’s next in line?
On the other hand, she could see why Jessica would want to believe all this BS. She’d be the most powerful person in the whole Oculus Society now. She was drunk with her own power. So drunk she actually believed she could become someone else.

Gretchen snatched up the papers that Jessica had left on her desk.

Please
,
just read them
, she’d begged after Gretchen had told her to get out.

Oh, I’ll read them, all right. I’ll read them and tell everyone how crazy you all are for buying into this crap
.

Suddenly, Gretchen didn’t care if she never set foot in the Oculus Society ever again. It was as if she were seeing the whole thing for the very first time—an exclusionary, petty, power-hungry group of multi-generational social climbers—who had been completely deluded into thinking they’re not only better than everyone else, but super human to boot. No wonder Ariel Miller hated them all so much.

Gretchen angrily flipped the pages, skimming through the paragraphs.

They want you to be the witness
, Jessica had pleaded.
You’d still be a part of it
.

Yeah
, Gretchen had responded.
I’m sure you’d love that, too; having me on the sidelines while you get to be the big star
. She went back to the paper.

Gretchen felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. The papers fell from her hands, floating in and out and landing softly at her feet, like gentle waves lapping against a dock. The anger she’d been feeling toward Jessica evaporated.

She picked up her phone and frantically dialed Jessica’s number.

“Hi,” Jessica answered. Her voice sounded guarded and hurt.

“She wore an anklet,” Gretchen blurted out. “My mother was wearing an anklet the night she was murdered. It had an amber stone on it.”

“I know,” Jessica said. “I saw it at graduation. That’s why I wanted you to read the papers.”

“No, you don’t understand. When she was in the bedroom … afterwards … the anklet was gone.”

Jessica didn’t say anything.

“Jess? Are you there?”

“Oh, my God,” Jessica finally whispered. “Do you think someone killed her to get the anklet?”

Gretchen gripped the phone. “I think they might have. I mean, I thought it was just lost, but then my dad came around the other night asking me if I’d seen it.”

“Your dad! Do you think he knew about the Plotinus Ability?”

“No,” Gretchen said firmly. “My mom took the Oculus Society too seriously. If what you’re saying is true, if she wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, then she wouldn’t have. Not even him.” She paused as tears sprang to her eyes. “Not even me, either.”