**Jamie Drummond – Roof of one of the dorm buildings**

James ruffled a hand through auburn hair, displacing gel and hairspray and spiking it up in a look that was truly untidy. He didn't want to go to the lake, no siree, because not only was there probably numerous unseen, unnoticed bodies in it other than the Schwartz girl's (and wasn't that a scary thought, because the Drummonds were well-known acquaintances of the family?) but also due to the fact that the lake was absolutely ages away. Ash seemed to have been immune to the sheer effort it had taken to pull himself out of bed whenever he had a free period and climb up to the roof. His near catatonic state, 'sleepy' if he was less dramatic, made the concept of heading down there with the hot sun beating down on his back all the more unappealing.

“It's a pure trek, though,” was all he said, more of a whine as he pulled himself to his feet with the help of the railing. Still, what Ash wanted, Ash got – and he was sure his father would say something silly or dismissive about that, something like, '*Think you're a ladies' man, Jamie? More like whipped if you keep lettin' the gals boss you around.*'

Sweat already clung to the back of his neck and the collar of his untucked shirt from the heat, and it was only going to get worse. At least he was more likely to get there first if he ran, James supposed, and it was good practice – more fun than running around a track as he did for the school's team. There was no danger, no element of chance to something as mundane as that, and he could never enjoy it as much as a competitive race. He was even looking forward to a change of scenery from the roof, no matter how much he protested. That was how he lived life, he knew; complain about it, then do it. Almost like a family motto.

“And you know full well that the 'and back' part's a lie, Mareinos,” James continued, looking around for his blazer only to realise that, no, he hadn't brought it with him. Duh. He so wasn't taking the library book he had brought with him – not that he had followed through with his good intentions of reading it – and the librarian would probably just have to... wonder why the text was missing. It wasn't exactly school related, either. Just a non-fiction text entitled, '*Mysteries Dragged Ashore*' about beached bodies and crime scene investigations. If he wanted to become a policeman, or rather, a detective (since Ivy League really wasn't for him) then he'd have to deal with deaths like Helen Schwartz on a daily basis.

“Let's go, then.” And he didn't think of the dead girl long enough to let it chill him to the bone.

---

**Luca Seacliffe – Near the Lake**

Luca peered into the small pond on the edge of the grounds, close enough to the lake so that the water rolled down hill when it rained but far enough to be a separate body entirely. When she inspected the reeds, pulling them apart and staining her hands with muck, she could see the undeniable glistening of frogspawn. Gross.

She poked it, then wiped her hand on the front of her skirt, which was twisted awkwardly as such pieces of clothing were meant to be worn 'delicately' and 'carefully' rather than allowed to ride halfway up her thighs so she could climb a tree. The bottom of her tie had dipped into the mucky water at some point, but Luca was sure she had a spare in her room if she looked – it wasn't a big deal. She didn't *mean* to give the cleaners and service people more work, not at all. Perhaps she should write an apology note?

The thought was quickly forgotten. 

The older students in her dorms had been telling ghost stories, most notably to do with the girl named Helen Schwartz, and the murky water made her wonder how many other children had been killed and their corpses dumped. Morbid, she knew, but necessary to think about, because Luca *really* didn't want to die like the girl supposedly had. Runes carved into her skin...

Just thinking about it made her nose wrinkle.