Free All Fall Down by Ally Carter

lowers his voice.
    “So last night …” he starts, and it all comes rushing back to me.
    The cliffs.
    The party.
    The Scarred Man.
    I’m starting to shake as Noah goes on. “We aren’t going to have a repeat of that little performance anytime soon, are we?”
    “Did Alexei feed you that line or did you come up with it all on your own?” I ask.
    We dance a little more. From the other side of the room, I can hear Ms. Chancellor chanting, “One two three. One two three.”
    “What you did was dangerous. You know that, right? It was insanely, ridiculously, freakishly dangerous.”
    I stare up at him. “It was a calculated risk.”
    “Chin up, Noah. Shoulders back!” Ms. Chancellor chides.
    “Besides, if I’m not mistaken, I kind of saved your sister’s hide,” I tell him. It’s meant to sting, but he smiles instead.
    “Thank you.” He glances away. “Don’t do it again. But thank you.”
    “ You’re not the one who owes me,” I point out.
    He nods. “Yeah, well, Lila is … Lila. I’m just grateful that she didn’t eat me in the womb.”
    “Grace, dear, the waltz is not what one would call a humorous dance,” Ms. Chancellor scolds when I start laughing.
    “Noah?” I say once I’ve regained my composure.
    “What?” Noah asks.
    “Do people ever go in there?”
    “Where?”
    “There,” I say.
    “In the Iranian embassy ?” Noah whispers, glancing to where Ms. Chancellor stands on the far side of the room, thumbing through a stack of records. “Is that what you’re asking? Do people ever go in the Iranian embassy ?”
    “I take that as a no.”
    “No. That’s an are you out of your mind? Wait — what am I saying?” he asks with a shake of his head. “You jumped off a cliff. Of course you’re out of your mind.”
    “It’s just …” I can’t find the words — or maybe the strength — to finish.
    “It’s just what?” There’s an edge to Noah’s voice. He’s known me less than twenty-four hours and already he knows he should be worried about whatever is going to come next.
    “I heard something.” As I say it, the music fades away. In my mind, I can hear the creaking floor, the scurrying vermin. And the voices. I can see the man with the scar.
    I cannot forget the man with the scar.
    “When I was in there,” I go on, “I thought I heard something .”
    “The place has been abandoned for years. The whole building is probably falling down. Half the rats in Valancia live in there. I’m sure you heard a lot of things.”
    The needle scratches. The music stops for real this time. In the silence I whisper, “Voices, Noah. I heard voices.”
    “You did not hear voices.”
    “But —”
    “No one goes in there, Grace. No one. And that includes you. Okay?”
    “Okay,” I tell him.
    “Okay,” Ms. Chancellor parrots the word but not the tone. She slaps her hands together, obviously pleased with our morning thus far. “I believe we are ready for phase two.”

N oah says good-bye even though I beg him to stay. I’m far less likely to kill Ms. Chancellor if there’s a witness.
    “No boys allowed for phase two,” Ms. Chancellor teases as she pulls me toward the open doors across the hall. “Look at these, Grace. Aren’t they beautiful?”
    She honestly sounds like a schoolgirl as she walks toward the racks of clothes that fill what is usually a formal living room. Now the furniture has been pushed aside. There are long rolling racks covered with dresses. Stacks and stacks of shoe boxes.
    But the worst part isn’t the rows of clothes and shoes. It’s the girl who stands on the opposite side of the room, staring at me.
    “Megan!” Ms. Chancellor throws open her arms. “Hello, dear.” She gives Megan a big hug, then pulls away. “Did you see Grace is back with us?”
    Megan did see me. She saw me jump off a cliff and crawl under an Iranian fence. Megan has seen plenty. And I can’t help but hold my breath, waiting on her answer.
    “Hi,” Megan says, turning to me.