When Phoebe had mentioned the Society to her mother back in the fall, Maia had sent her to Dr. Meckling. The psychiatrist, who was part of the Society himself, had implied that Phoebe was suffering from delusions and should possibly be hospitalized. After returning from the retreat at Isis Island, Phoebe had been afraid to say anything to her mom about what had happened there, for fear that her mother would, once again, think she was crazy.
Now she didn’t even want to mention the rats to Daniel; though he was in the Society himself, he might not believe her.
Her mother and Daniel arrived home, and Maia busied herself in the kitchen. Phoebe sat in the living room with Daniel and tried to concentrate on the reading for her literature class, a book of Kafka stories. As the fire he had lit started to crackle, Phoebe found that the text was starting to blend together on the page. She looked up from her book and tried to relax her eyes.
“Is everything okay with school?” Daniel said. “You look exhausted.”
“Thanks,” Phoebe said drily. “That’s always nice to hear.”
“Anything going on? It’s only the first few days into the new semester, right?”
“I’m not sure you would understand,” Phoebe said.
“Is it about the retreat?” he asked quietly.
“Well, yeah, for starters.” After he had told her mother to send her to Meckling, Phoebe didn’t know whether she could trust him or not. But he was being nice to her tonight, and she thought that if he opened up, it might help her piece together answers to some of the many questions she had.
“I think-” Daniel paused, as if carefully measuring what he was about to say. “I think you may be taking all this stuff with the Society too seriously. The work the Society has done over the years has been exemplary, and I think you’re ignoring that in favor of a few minor incidents. There’s the work they’ve done philanthropically, and the connections they help people to make. All that stuff, the initiations, the stuff on the island, that’s all just to get people excited about it. Sort of like a pep rally.”
Phoebe scoffed. “Um, a pep rally where they burn coffin effigies of two people? Come on, Daniel, two people my age died! That certainly wasn’t smoke and mirrors.”
Daniel looked back nervously at the closed door leading to the kitchen. “You know we need to be discreet about this, Phoebe. It’s a privilege to be picked for the Society, and you’re treating it like it’s some kind of high school prank.”
“What will happen if I tell my mom again? Will you get in trouble?” Phoebe sneered at him. She was surprising herself; it wasn’t like her to act this way.
“I think you know. The Council won’t tolerate insubordination. You’re ignoring all the good that the Society has done, and focusing on the bad. Have you heard about the renovations at the Met? Ninety percent of that has been funded by Society contributions.”
Phoebe sighed. “My friends and I are just so sick of all these rules. You really believe in all this?” She was starting to wonder herself. Maybe she had overreacted to everything. Maybe Jared’s death had been an accident. But Alejandro’s death: Parker Bell had admitted to them that he had orchestrated it. She didn’t know why she kept doubting herself. The Society was corrupt, and within her first two weeks in New York, she had gotten involved in it.
She should have known better.
Daniel leaned toward her. “I believe that if we live according to the best ideals that have been set forth for us, we can achieve our maximum potential.”
Phoebe nodded blankly and turned back to her reading. Talking to Daniel wasn’t going to do any good.
When Phoebe had arrived in Manhattan four months ago from California, she had wanted her New York to be like the one she had seen in the movies.
Now it was, in a sense.
The only problem was that it was the wrong kind of movie.
Chapter Fifteen
After parting ways with Phoebe, Nick took the subway back home. He decided to get off several stops early, on Lexington Avenue in the Sixties. It was a chilly night, but with everything that had happened, he wanted to take a walk and clear his head. As he was about to cross the street and go west toward Fifth, Nick got a call from Thad.
“Did you hear what happened to me today?” his new friend said. “I’ve just spent the last four hours in the headmistress’s office.” Thad attended the Whitford School on West End Avenue, but gossip about people Nick knew usually reached him, even if they didn’t go to Chadwick.
“What did you do? I wasn’t at school today, so I didn’t hear.”
“I didn’t do anything! I opened my locker between first and second period, and a bottle of gin fell out. It shattered all over the floor, and you know how gin smells like-”
“Like my parents in the summer?” Nick interrupted.
Thad laughed grimly. “I was going to say like gin, but yeah, whatever. Anyway, you couldn’t miss it. I was pulled in by the headmistress, and she was not pleased. You know how crazy they are about drinking. I guess it’s the same at Chadwick.”
“Don’t remind me.” Nick had been admonished for hosting a party that was featured in New York magazine, and he was still trying to regain credibility at school as someone who wasn’t a complete screwup.
“I’ve been suspended for a week,” Thad said. “I would have been expelled, but I told them there was no way the bottle was mine. My father threatened to bring in a lawyer and do a forensic test on the broken bottle and everything. That got them to back down. But I’m still suspended, and the incident may go on my permanent record.”
“We’ve got to figure out a way to end this,” Nick said. “Let me think about it tonight, okay?”
Just as Nick was hanging up, another call came through from Phoebe, who said that Lauren had just been accused of theft at Giroux New York.
Nick shook his head. “I’m not surprised.” He told Phoebe about what had happened to Thad.
“We need to get together again with the others,” Phoebe said. “Let me figure out a good meeting place.”
Nick slowed down his walk as he hit Park Avenue. Traffic was light, and there weren’t many pedestrians. “I’m worried about you,” he said quietly. “Are you going to be okay? Staying at home, with, you know… I mean, what if something else happens?” Phoebe had mentioned that Daniel, Phoebe’s mother’s boyfriend, would be staying over that night.
“He’s not going to do anything. This is all coming from far higher up-I feel like it’s coming from the Council of Regents. Seriously, talking to Daniel, I think he believes the Society is this amazing organization that’s only out for the greater good. Besides, there’s no reason why my being close to Daniel is any more dangerous than you being around your parents.”
There was an awkward pause on the line as Nick let this sink in. “I guess you’re right,” he finally said.
He knew his dad had done all these terrible things, but he had mentally separated those actions from his father’s role as his parent.
Maybe it was time to accept that it was all coming from the same man. He didn’t want to, and it had been so difficult for him over the past several months to see his parents change from people he trusted and believed to people who trafficked in deception. Nick knew that his father wanted to draw him into his world, but he had resisted. On New Year’s Eve, before everyone left Isis Island to go back to the city, Nick’s father had confided in him, telling him a secret about Patch that was far too momentous for Nick to reveal. Nick hadn’t wanted to tell it to Patch a mere day after they had reconciled, and then as each day passed, it became more difficult to reveal what he had learned. Now that it had been more than a week, Nick had pushed the information to the far recesses of his mind.
Phoebe said she had to go, as Daniel and her mother were still downstairs.
As he walked up Park Avenue, Nick thought about what had happened to his three friends. The Society was punishing them for not attending the meeting on Monday night. Nick had always heard that meetings were serious and not to be missed; it was one of the Society’s rules. But all these horrible acts? It wasn’t right.