It was when we acted suspiciously that people would start questioning us.
“Lila?” The man at the door said, narrowing his eyes.
It was Mr. Conley from the History class; it was odd that he was in this section of the school. History is at the opposite end of the building.
“Professor?” Mr. Conley said as his eyes trailed over to me; there were questions in them, that much was clear. Questions I wasn’t going to answer.
“Hello, Mr. Conley,” Lila tried to say as casually as she could, but her face was flushed, and her voice came out as a squeak. “We were just leaving.”
“What are you doing in here?” Mr. Conley asked. “It’s late in the evening. Shouldn’t you be with the other students in the dining hall for dinner?”
“I was just heading there now,” she said, turning to the canvas. “Pro
