Selene narrowed her eyes. “You going to talk to your mom?”

“Something like that. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Be careful. She’ll be mad if she catches you snooping.”

I grimaced. Leave it to Selene to guess my real purpose for leaving early. During the lunch hour, I figured there was a good chance my mom wouldn’t be in the classroom. There was also a good chance she’d left her purse in there, too. She had a chronic habit of doing that. Sort of defeated the purpose of carrying a purse, in my opinion, but that was my mother for you.

I’d been hearing rumors about the new psionics teacher all day, most of them surprisingly positive, like how cool and fun she was, and how pretty, of course.

When I arrived at the classroom, I stopped outside the door and listened for noise inside. I didn’t hear anything, so I went in. The room looked the same as always. This was the first time I’d been in here since the dance, and the sight of what remained of Mr. Ankil hit me like a sudden plunge into icy water. The sadness was almost unbearable for a moment.

With a huge effort, I bottled up the sorrow and focused on the task at hand. I spotted a leopard print purse on top of the teacher’s desk and made a beeline for it.

I was halfway done riffling through the obscene amount of contents—lipstick, travel-sized hairspray, toothbrush, wallet, and so on—when I heard footsteps outside the door. The lunch bell hadn’t rung yet, and I panicked—it had to be my mother. Shoving the emery board I’d been holding back into the purse, I yanked the zipper closed and raced to the closet.

I stepped inside, wedging myself in between the items and pulling the door shut. Something was groping my butt, and I glanced over my shoulder to see a head-and-hand dummy. Thank goodness it was just bad positioning and not because of animation. When I looked back, I realized the door hadn’t closed all the way. I reached for the handle then stopped. Through the small slit, I watched my mother enter the room with Mr. Culpepper trailing behind her. My curiosity did a wild leap inside my chest at the sight of them together.

As they approached the desk, Moira said, “Do you have it with you?”

Culpepper pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket and wiped his brow. “If you’ve got the payment.”

“You’re sure it will do all you claim?”

“Cut from the same stone as mine, in a manner of speaking. But if it don’t work you can return it for a full refund.”

“What a comfort.” Moira opened the purse, pulled out some money, and gave it to Culpepper.

He handed her a brown paper package the size of a small jewelry box. “What’re you planning on using it for?”

Moira smirked at him. “Do you ask that question of all your clients?”

“Nope. Most of the time it’s obvious.”

“Well then, I think the same can be assumed here. And if I’m not mistaken, this concludes our business.”

Culpepper grunted then stalked out the door in his slight, shuffling gait.

Moira slid the box into her purse then cut her eyes to the closet. I stepped back from the crack in the door, my pulse quickening. There was no way she could’ve seen me. Not unless she had X-ray vision.

“You can come out now, Destiny,” my mother said.

I froze, dumbstruck.

She waved. “Come on. I know you’re in the closet.”

Wishing I knew an invisibility spell, I pushed the door open and stepped out. “Hey, Mom.”

“Don’t ‘Hey, Mom’ me.” Moira put her hands on her hips. “What are you doing in there?”

“Looking for a broom?”

“Ha, ha, ha. Why are you here?” She tapped the toe of one boot.

“Um, class is starting?”

“Try again.”

I hesitated, knowing I was on shaky ground, and not just because she was my mother. No, I understood that if I asked what I wanted to, what I needed to, I might do irreparable damage to our relationship. I wasn’t entirely sure I was cool with that. True, it wasn’t much of a relationship, but she was still my mother.

Who may be a killer.

“What were you doing with Mr. Culpepper?” I said, stalling, although I wanted to know the answer to this, too.

Mom raised her hand and began examining her fingernails. “Not your concern, and also not pertinent to why you’re here so early.”

“All right, I want to know what you’re doing for the senate.”

She dropped her hands, casting me a snide look. “And that’s why you were hiding in my closet? I don’t think so. Stop avoiding the subject, Destiny. I’m wise to your little ‘ask a lot of questions to avoid the truth’ game.”

I glared at her, not appreciating her smug attitude that she knew me so well. Truth was she didn’t know me at all. Two weeks a summer and the occasional phone call or e-mail didn’t cut it. Not by a long shot. “I want to know what you were doing at the dance.”

Moira sighed, angrily. “What’s this sudden obsession with my activities? You’ve never cared before.”

I never cared? Give me a break. “Fine. You want the truth? My sudden obsession is that you’re the reason I was down in the tunnels when Mr. Ankil was killed. I was following you. So you either had to have seen something or done something. And I know what you can do, how The Will doesn’t matter to people like us.”

Her nostrils flared. “Just what are you insinuating?”