I swallowed back my tears and fury, spun away from her, and returned to the ballroom, where I found the last dance in progress. Most of the girls glanced my way with interest, most with smiles on their faces. Whatever they uttered to their male companions brought laughter. It sickened me to see such joviality after what had been done to Abby.

Over by the tables, Gisselle held court, surrounded now by more followers and admirers, including Jonathan Peck. Her laughter was so shrill it could be heard over the music.

"I bet that's the first time a girl's turned down the Greenwood dance trophy," she said as I approached, more for my benefit than anyone else's. There was more laughter.

"Oh, here's my sister. Give us a report, Ruby. Where's the quadroon gone?"

"Her name is Abby," I fired back. "And thanks to you she left."

"What do you mean, thanks to me? All I did was read the results of the vote, and why would anyone run off after winning?" Gisselle asked with an expression of utter innocence. The others nodded and smiled, gleefully anticipating my response.

"You know very well why, Gisselle. You did a very mean thing tonight."

"Don't tell me you condone the presence of mixed bloods at Greenwood," Jonathan remarked. He pulled his shoulders back and pressed down the sides of his hair with his palms as if he were standing in front of a mirror instead of a dozen admiring females. I turned on him.

"What I don't condone is the presence of cruel and vicious people at Greenwood, nor do I condone the presence of snobs and arrogant young men who think they're somehow God's gift when in truth they're more in love with themselves than they could ever be with anyone else," I retorted.

Jonathan's face flushed red. "Well, I see where you stand when it comes to associating with people of a lower class. Perhaps you're in the wrong place too," he said, looking to the young men and women who had gathered around us for support. Almost all nodded in agreement.

"Maybe I am," I said, hot tears burning under my eyelids. "I'd rather be in a swamp surrounded by alligators than here with people who look down on other people because of their family background."

"Oh, stop being such a goody-goody," Gisselle complained. "She'll get over it."

I drew closer to her, my eyes so filled with fury that the girls around her parted to make way. Hovering over her chair, I folded my arms under my breasts and spit my question down at her.

"What did you do, Gisselle? Listen with your ear to our door?"

"You think I'm so interested in your private talks? You think there's anything you've done that I haven't read about or seen?" she replied, reddening under my accusation. "I don't have to put my ear to the door to know what goes on between you and your quadroon friend. But," she said, smiling and sitting back, "if you would care to confess, to describe what it was like sleeping beside her . . ."

"Shut up!" I screamed, unable to hold back my flood of emotion. "Shut your filthy mouth before I—"

"Look how she's threatening her crippled sister," Gisselle cried, cringing dramatically. "You see how helpless I am, how helpless I've been. Now you all know what it's like to be a crippled twin and have to live day in and day out watching your sister have fun, go wherever she wants, do whatever she wants."

Gisselle covered her face in her hands and began to sob. Everyone glared at me angrily.

"Oh, what's the use?" I moaned, and turned away just as the music came to an end.

Mrs. Ironwood was immediately at the microphone. "It looks like a storm's brewing," she advised. "The boys should move right to the waiting buses and the girls should head back to their dorms immediately."

Everyone started toward the exits, but Miss Stevens hurried to my side.

"Poor Abby. What they did to her was horrible. Where did she go?" she asked.

"I don't know, Miss Stevens. She ran down the driveway and down the road. I'm worried about her, but Mrs. Ironwood wouldn't let me go after her."

"I'll get into my jeep and see if I can find her," Miss Stevens promised. "You go back to the dorm and wait for me."

"Thank you. There really is a bad storm coming, and she might get caught in it. Please, if you find her, tell her I had nothing to do with what Gisselle did tonight. Please, tell her."

"I'm sure she doesn't think that anyway," Miss Stevens said, with a smile of kindness. We saw Mrs. Ironwood watching us from the side as we followed the crowd out of the ballroom.

A streak of lightning cut a white gash in the dark and foreboding sky. Some of the girls squealed with excitement. Some of the Rosewood boys stole quick goodbye kisses before mounting their buses. Jonathan Peck had a crowd of at least half a dozen doting Greenwood girls around him, waiting and hoping for him to press his precious lips to theirs, or at least to their cheeks.

Another crack of thunder caused more shouting and scurrying about. I saw Miss Stevens hurry away to get to her jeep and I looked hopefully down the driveway for a sign of Abby before I turned to walk quickly back to our dorm. Perhaps she had circled around and gone back herself, I anticipated; but when I arrived, I found our room empty. I went back to the main lobby to wait for Miss Stevens. All the other girls arrived, bubbling over with excitement about the dance and the boys they had met. I ignored them, and for the most part, they ignored me.

The storm came over the campus rapidly, blowing in from the river. Soon the wind was turning and twisting the branches of the great oak trees. The world outside grew darker and darker and the rain began to fall in sheets, thumping on the windows and bouncing off the walkways. The railings around the galerie were dripping in a continuous stream, and the lightning continued to flash in the dark, illuminating the school and the grounds for a split second of white light and then leaving it in darkness again. What if Miss Stevens hadn't found Abby? I imagined her terrified under a tree somewhere on the road that led up to Greenwood. Perhaps she had made it to one of those nice houses that were on that road, and the people had been kind enough to take her in until the storm ended.

Nearly an hour had gone by before I looked through the lobby windows and saw the headlights of a car. Miss Stevens's jeep pulled up in front of our dorm and Miss Stevens emerged, her raincoat pulled up and over her head as she ran toward the dorm. I greeted her at the front door.

"Has she returned?" she asked me, and my heart sank.

"No."

"No?" She shook the water from her hair. "I drove up and down the road. I went miles more than she could have gone even if she had run the whole way, but I didn't see any sign of her. I was hoping she had turned back on her own."

"What could have happened to her?"

"Maybe someone stopped for her."

"But where would she go, Miss Stevens? She doesn't know anyone in Baton Rouge."

She shook her head, her face revealing worry as both of us thought of the same sort of terrible possibilities that might befall a beautiful young girl, wandering alone at night in a storm on a quiet highway.

"Maybe she just found shelter somewhere and is waiting for the storm to end," she offered.

Mrs. Penny came up beside us, her hands twisting, her face full of concern.

"I just had a call from Mrs. Ironwood, who wanted to know if Abby had returned. Where did she go, Ruby?"

"I don't know, Mrs. Penny."

"She left the grounds, and at night! . . . In a storm!"

"It wasn't something she wanted to do, Mrs. Penny."

"Oh dear," she moaned. "Oh dear. We've never had these sorts of problems at Greenwood before. It has always been such a delightful job for me, such a delightful experience."

"I'm sure everything will be all right," Miss Stevens told her. "Just leave the front door unlocked for her."

"But I always lock the door after curfew. I have all these others girls to think about too. What am I to do?"

"Don't worry about the door, Mrs. Penny. I'm going to sit right here and wait for Abby to return," I said, planting myself on the sofa in the lobby.

"Oh dear," she said. "And social evenings were always such a wonderful time."

"If you need me, call me," Miss Stevens said in a low voice. "Call me if she returns anyway. I'd like to know she's all right."

"Thank you, Miss Stevens," I said after she gave me her phone number. I followed her to the door to see her off. She squeezed my hands between hers.

"Everything will work out. You'll see," she promised, to boost my morale. I struggled to form a smile and watched her put her coat over her head again as she prepared to run the gamut between the dorm and her jeep. The rain was still coming down that strong. I waited at the door until she drove away. A few moments later, Mrs. Penny came up behind me and locked the doors.

"I've got to call Mrs. Ironwood," she told me. "She's going to be very angry. Let me know if she returns soon, will you, dear?"

I nodded, then returned to the sofa and sat staring at the door and listening to pounding raindrops that seem to fall just as hard on my heart as they did on the walls and roof of the dorm. I fell asleep on and off, waking abruptly a few times when I thought I heard someone at the door, but it proved to be only the wind. Exhausted from worry and fatigue, I finally got up and went to our room. I didn't even get out of my clothing. I collapsed on my bed, sobbing for Abby for a while, and then fell into a deep sleep, not waking up again until I-heard the girls moving through the lounge preparing to go to breakfast. I turned quickly to look at Abby's bed, and my heart sank at the sight of it, untouched.