Free Conversion by Katherine Howe Page A

spoke.
    “Well, the first thing is that we urge you to avoid speaking to the press. I know they can seem awfully friendly, and it’s very exciting having someone with a camera want to talk to you, but we don’t need to be airing any of our private business to them. You are all young ladies of St. Joan’s, and one of our school precepts is to behave with honor, both in public and in private. It’s part of the pledge you all sign at the beginning of the school year, and this is the kind of situation in which I would ask you to remember what you’ve promised. There’s no need to speak with anyone outside of school and your families. Just ignore them.”
    Soft murmuring circulated in the pews. Deena and I exchanged a look. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Emma gazing at the chapel ceiling, lost in her own thoughts. Her eyes glimmered in the candlelight.
    “Now, because I don’t want any of you to be concerned, I’ve asked Miss Hocking to say a few words that will clarify the situation and hopefully put your mind at ease. Miss Hocking?”
    The school nurse had pulled her hair back into a chignon to make herself look more serious and had procured a white coat. She always used to wear those casual nurse blouses, the ones that come with teddy bears and stuff on them. But now she was straight-up white-coated.
    “Good morning, girls,” she said.
    Part of me thought that though she looked serious, it was an artificial seriousness. It looked like she was trying hard not to enjoy herself.
    “I’m sure you’ve all heard what happened to a couple of our seniors last week. Now, first of all, I want you to know that I’ve talked with the families of all three of the girls, and they’re all doing just fine.”
    A frisson of excitement thrummed through the pews. Deena and Emma and Anjali and I exchanged quickly mouthed confusion:
Three? I only knew about Clara and the Other Jennifer. Who’s the third? Three? What is she talking about?
All around us blue phone screens flipped on, and thumbs started to move.
    The thrumming didn’t abate until the upper school dean stood up and bellowed, “LADIES. Your attention to Miss Hocking, please!”
    Phones slid back into sweater sleeves and voices quieted down.
    “As I was saying. They’re all doing just fine, and they’re expected to be back in school later this week. So I don’t want any of you to be concerned. For those of you who were present when your friends fell sick, we know it was scary, and I just want to reiterate this very important fact: they are just fine. There’s nothing to be concerned about. If you have any questions about what’s happened, now’s the time.”
    We all paused, looking at each other. Then Leigh Carruthers’s hand shot up. Of course.
    “Miss Carruthers,” the upper school dean called on her.
    “Yeah, sorry, who’s the third one?” Leigh called out, and we all murmured our assent in wanting to know.
    The nurse and the dean exchanged a look, and the nurse leaned into the microphone to say, “Unfortunately, I’m not at liberty to say. Confidentiality. Are there any other questions?”
    A hand in the center gallery shot up, from the seventh-grade section.
    “What do they think caused it?”
    “That’s a good question,” the nurse said. She glanced at the upper school dean, who shook her head.
    “As far as we can tell, all three of the girls go to the same pediatrician. At this point we think they may have gotten some vaccinations at about the same time. It’s possible that they had a slight allergic reaction to a preservative in the vaccine. It’s not a big deal—people have allergic reactions to vaccines all the time. The important thing is, they’re going to be fine.”
    Almost-audible cries started going up among us, cries of “I just went to the pediatrician, like, last week!” and “I totally felt light-headed in biology on Friday.”
    Another hand shot up, this time from within the junior class.
    “Could you tell us