"No," I said, infuriated. "I want to face my accusers. I want everyone who is party to these lies to have to look into my eyes and understand what they're doing."

"Suit yourself." She sat back again. "I knew you would be defiant to the end, and I had little hope of making things easier for your family, even after the tragedy your stepmother has just recently endured. I feel sorry for you, but you are probably better off returning to your own kind."

"Oh, there's no question I'm better off doing that, Mrs. Ironwood," I said. "My kind doesn't look down on people just because they don't happen to be rich or descendants of some noble family. My kind don't plot and connive," I snapped. My tears were hot under my lids, but I kept them locked in my eyes so as not to give her the satisfaction of seeing me brought down. "But I won't be paddled out of here in a canoe built out of fabrications and hateful deceit."

She gazed at Mrs. Randle, who quickly looked down at her notepad again.

"For the record," Mrs. Ironwood dictated, "let it be noted that the student, Ruby Dumas, denies all charges and wishes to go forward with the formal hearing. She has been informed of her rights—"

"Rights? What rights do I have here?" I said with a sarcastic laugh.

"She has been informed of her rights," Mrs. Ironwood repeated pointedly. "Do you have all this, Mrs. Randle?"

"Yes," she replied quickly.

"Let her sign the notes as prescribed by the bylaws," Mrs. Ironwood said. Mrs. Randle turned her pad toward me and pushed it closer, handing me a pen at the same time.

"You sign right here," she instructed, pointing to a line drawn at the bottom of the page. I plucked the pen out of her fingers and started to sign.

"Don't you want to read it first?" Mrs. Ironwood asked.

"What for?" I said. "This is all a well-rehearsed play, with the outcome predetermined."

"Then why continue it?" she demanded quickly.

Yes, I wondered, why continue it? Then I thought about Grandmère Catherine and about all the times she was called to face the hardest of challenges, the unknown, the dark; and how she always went willingly to do battle for what was right and what was good, no matter how terrible the odds against her success were.

"I will continue it so that all those who are part of this conspiracy can face me and have me lay heavy on their consciences," I replied.

Mrs. Randle's eyes widened with surprise and a little appreciation, appreciation she was sure Mrs. Ironwood did not see.

"You can return to your classes now," Mrs. Ironwood said. "You have been told to appear at four. If you should fail to appear, you will be judged in absentia."

"I have no doubt of that," I said and got up. My legs wanted to wobble, but I closed my eyes and willed a stream of hard, cold strength from my proud heart down through my veins and to the bottoms of my feet. With my shoulders straight and my head high, I turned and walked out of Mrs. Ironwood's office, not faltering until I set myself down in my desk in my first class and realized just what it was that was about to happen now. A kind of paralyzing numbness gripped me.

I moved like a zombie throughout the day. I told no one about my meeting with Mrs. Ironwood and what I had been accused of and what that meant, but I didn't have to whisper a word to a living soul. As soon as Deborah Peck was informed she would be sitting in on an expulsion hearing, the news wove its way through every corridor and every classroom faster than an eel in the swamp going after its supper. By midafternoon, everyone knew and everyone was talking about me. Just before my last class period, Gisselle cornered me in the hallway, first to chastise me for not coming directly to her with my problem, and then to express her pleasure because if I were forced out of Greenwood, so was she.

"I didn't tell you just because of the way you're acting right now, Gisselle," I said. "I knew how you would gloat and be pleased."

"Why are you bothering with the hearing? Let's just call Daphne and tell her to send the limousine."

"Because it's a pack of lies, that's why, and I don't intend to let the Iron Lady get away with it, if I can help it," I replied. "I won't be driven out of here on a rail, tarred and feathered."

"Well you can't stop it, and you're just being Cajun stubborn and Cajun stupid. You don't go to that hearing, Ruby," she ordered. "Did you hear what I said? You don't go"

"Let me go to my class, Gisselle. I don't want to add a lateness to everything else and give her any more reason to pick on me," I said, starting around the wheelchair.

She seized the sleeve of my blouse. "Just don't go, Ruby."

I pulled my arm free.

"I'm going," I said, my eyes so full of fire my cheeks felt singed.

"You're wasting your time," she called after me. "And it's not worth it! This place isn't worth it!" she screamed. I walked faster and entered the art room just at the bell. One look at Miss Stevens's face told all: She knew and she was very upset for me. She was so upset she put the others to busy work and pulled me aside at the rear of the room, where she asked me to tell her everything.

"I'm not guilty, Miss Stevens. These are trumped-up charges. I couldn't have been at the boathouse last night. Mrs. Gray is mistaken."

"Why couldn't you be?" she asked.

I told her about my visit with Louis.

"Only they say Mrs. Clairborne won't testify for me and they won't let Louis do it either," I explained.

She shook her head, her eyes dark with troubled thoughts. "I can't see Mrs. Gray as part of any underhanded conspiracy to have you thrown out of Greenwood. She's a fine woman, a very kind person. Don't you get along with her in class?" she asked.

"Oh yes. I think I have an A-plus in her class."

"She's been like a mother to me," Miss Stevens said, "advising me, helping me right from the start. She's a churchgoing lady too."

"But I wasn't there, Miss Stevens! Honest. She has to be mistaken."

Miss Stevens nodded, thoughtful.

"Maybe she'll realize that and recant her testimony."

"I doubt it. Mrs. Ironwood looked too pleased and too assured of herself, and with Buck already fired and gone, it's going to be my word against Mrs. Gray's and that fiction they made Buck sign," I moaned.

"Why is Mrs. Ironwood so adamantly against you?" Miss Stevens wondered.

"Because of Louis, mainly, but she never liked me from the start and made that perfectly clear the first time we met in her office. My stepmother put a dark cloud over me here immediately. I don't know why she would do that, except to make sure my stay here would be horrible. She wants me to fail, to look bad, just so she will have reason to get rid of me . . . and Gisselle," I said.

"You poor dear. Do you want me to come to the hearing with you and testify about your talents and success?"

"No. That won't matter, and it would only bring you into this dirty mess. I just want to go there and spit back in all their faces."

Miss Stevens's eyes filled with tears. She hugged me and wished me well and then returned to the front of the class to give instruction, but I heard nothing and saw nothing. After school I returned to the dorm, floating in a daze and not even remembering the walk. As soon as I was back in my room, I began to pack some of my things. When Gisselle arrived, she was ecstatic.

"You've decided to take my advice and give up? Good. When is the limousine coming?"

"I'm just preparing for what I know is inevitable, Gisselle. I'm still attending the hearing, which will begin in an hour. Do you want to come along?"

"Of course not. Why would I do such a thing?"

"To be with me."

"You mean to be embarrassed with you. Thanks, but no thanks. I'll wait here and start packing my things too. Thank goodness we'll be able to tell this place and everyone in it good riddance," she said, not caring that some of the girls would overhear.

"I won't be so happy about it, Gisselle. Daphne will have some other torment awaiting us. You'll see. We'll be shipped off to another school, a worse place, just as she threatened."

"I won't go. I'll tie myself to my bed!"

"She'll have the movers pack the bed too. She's determined."

"I don't care. Anything is better than this," she insisted, and spun away to begin her packing. I returned to my own packing and then took the time to fix my hair so I would look as presentable and as self-assured as I could.

I started back to the school at a quarter to four. Many of the girls in the dorm were downstairs in the lounge talking about me. They grew silent when I appeared and watched me leave, some going to the windows to stare out as I paraded up the path, my head high. I had taken nothing with me, but I made sure Nina's good gris-gris, the dime on a string, was around my ankle.

The sky had turned ominously gray, the thick overcast moving quickly to block out any sight of blue until the world looked dark and dreary, reflecting the way I felt in my heart. There was even a surprising chill in the air, so I hurried into the building.

At this time of the day, there were few students wandering about the halls. Those who were there stopped whatever they were doing to stare and then whisper as I made my way down the corridor toward Mrs. Ironwood's office. The door to her inner office was closed and Mrs. Randle was not at her desk. I took a seat and waited, watching the clock tick closer and closer toward four. At exactly four the door to the inner office was opened. Mrs. Ironwood herself stood there, a look of both disappointment and disgust on her face when she saw me waiting.

"Come in and take your seat," she ordered, and pivoted to return to her desk.