It's a broken world that lets the Austin Loews get away with twisted, dark acts hidden in plain sight. It's a broken world that pushes people to their breaking point all in the pursuit of money and status. And if society is broken it feels almost impossible to bear being a part of it. I see it in Vanessa when people assume things about her because of the color of her skin, in Alex in the way he keeps his real self hidden from the world and in Macie and her fight against injustice. Whether its self-preservation or something much bigger I think we all want things to be so much better. At least that's what I hope. Maybe you can't save the world, but you can save someone's world... Can't you?

It seems like some ancient piece of history I keep digging up over and over again but he's still out there. And now I need him to see the film. Even if it doesn't make any sense to him, I've pieced it all together and it's something beautiful. It's the best I could do. All the joy I could find and maybe it can be a 'moment of sky' for him too.

Exams are over for us juniors at least. I don't know if it was Macie's stunt that emboldened me, but I find myself at school in the dead of night, dressed all in black with a flashlight and a crumpled playbill from Death of a Salesman in my pocket. He had known the play. Studied it enough to know the lines and feel the emotions of the characters. He had to have been in it. My guess is it has to be Luke Harrison. He played Biff, the character Book-Boy had felt so strong a connection to. But it could've been any of the others, crew included. I highlighted all the boy's names on the playbill. 

Fourteen names. 

Fourteen chances to find him. 

I'm edging through the dark shadows between the school buildings, heading for Mr. Peterson's office (the Vice Principals), where all the exam papers are being kept before sending them out. I know this isn't me. This isn't a Harlow Riley thing to do at all. It's pure Macie Myers. 

Tonight, I'm Macie. 

Tonight, I'm invincible.

The campus is eerily quiet with the wind sailing through the branches of the trees and no sign of student life. The surveillance system was installed during the 80's. The school is such an old building with lots of odd angles and plenty of bushes and trees right up to the walls. Because of this there are some paths you can slip through and never be seen by the mounted cameras. Mostly these are used by the kids who smoke or the seniors pulling pranks in the final days of school. Since the public shaming of Austin Loew, the school has been on high alert for any more incidents and the security guard wanders round the grounds every hour, checking on the spots the cameras don't expose.

I sit in a bush for a good half hour before getting the courage to approach the building. The only way to get inside is to go in directly after the security guard. He'll unlock the side door off the quad, do a sweep of the building then come back down, exit and lock it up again. I need to get in and out of Mr. Peterson's office during that time period without getting caught.

Squatting down so I can't be seen through the windows I turn the handle with a gloved hand and nudge the door open as quietly as I can. 

"What are you doing... What are you doing!" Screams inside my head. 

The old wood whines loudly and I feel my blood freeze. Had the security guard heard it? I hear no footsteps walking back to the door. 

"You're a crazy person... Totally mad..." I steel myself and slip inside.

The hallway stretches long and forbidding out before me. The wooden boards groan under my trainers and at every step I fully expect a flashlight to fall on me and it all to be over. The old building has all of these odd sounds that you never hear during the day when it's full of students. The pipes sound like a subway system humming away in the walls and their constant creaks, bubbles and churnings are probably the only reason I make it to Mr. Peterson's second floor office undetected.

I pull out my bus pass and run it down the narrow space between the door and the frame, by the light of my flashlight.

It sticks above the lock and nothing happens.

I put the flashlight under my chin to hold it and try again with two hands. The flashlight slips, I let go of the bus pass and catch the light just before it hits the ground. I take in a deep, steadying breath. That could've been a disaster... I feel for my pass on the floor. It's nowhere to be felt or seen by the light of the stupid torch. A cold, sinking feeling drops down into the pit of my stomach.

The pass is on the other side of the door.

I take a few more calming breaths. 

"It's ok," I tell myself, "this is why you have a plan B."

Thank God for the internet. I pull out the mini Allen wrench and paperclip I had stuffed into my belt loop and pocket respectively. I put the flashlight in my teeth and start to apply pressure to the old lock in just the way the wiki-how article had directed. Maybe it's because I'm a secret master criminal or maybe it's because the door is like one hundred years old, but the lock clicks and the door swings open a crack. I snatch up my bus pass from the ground as soon as I enter the office.

I've never been sent to the Vice Principal's office in the entire time I've been at Mont Michel. It's a small room with books lining all the walls. It smells strongly of those collected volumes. That, and furniture polish. I remember my Dad's old office, from way back when he still worked at the university... I shake my head. No time for that now.

The exam papers from that day are right there on the desk before me. I close the door and whip out the playbill. Eight boys in the cast, six in the crew. I smooth out the crumpled paper and go through the names one by one. I find their exams and open them to the first handwritten pages. I pull out my phone from my pocket and... 

CLICK, flash. 

Take picture after picture; fourteen times.

My heart is pounding harder than ever as I neaten up the papers, trying to leave it exactly as I'd found it. I open the office door again and close it softly behind me, all in darkness. 

I did it! I actually frickin' did it! Me, Harlow Riley, successfully broke into school, into the Vice Principals office! I feel elated. 120% Macie in that moment. Then my heart leaps into my throat as the light of a torch illuminates the corner of the corridor to my left. 

SHIT! 

I quickly dive back into Mr. Petersons office. 

What the hell am I going to do now?

I glue my ear to the door, listening. Heavy, slow footsteps get louder and louder, then to my overwhelming relief they pass by and then get quieter and quieter. I give it another five minutes before finding the courage to step out again. I creep as quickly as I dare all the way back down to the side door that leads back to the quad. The security guard is nowhere to be seen. I know what's going to happen before I even reach the door.

It's locked.

I rattle it helplessly. 

I'm locked inside the school. 

I swear softly under my breath and sink to the floor, sitting with my back against the wall and my eyes closed.

My mind races. What can I do? Hide out in a classroom until morning? Maybe I can slip out and home, dress for school then get back in time for class? 

I laugh at myself. 

No, there's no way I'm sitting around waiting to maybe, maybe not be caught. I got this far, I got what I needed, I just have to get out and home. Simple enough, right?... Right? So, what would Macie do?

I stand up as quick as a flash and start to stalk down the corridor. Cat-like: the champion of the female population of Mont Michel. I run my hand along the window sill. Can I open it and climb out?

They're all locked with security bolts. 

But maybe... I race back upstairs and rush to one of the windows looking out on the quad from the second floor. They aren't security locked, but they are painted shut and pretty small.

"That's alright. You're a cat!" I tell myself.

I'm running on pure adrenaline now and there's no way I'm waiting around to get caught. I grab my Allen wrench and hack at the painted seal. White paint flakes all over the floor. I wriggle the wrench into a gap and pull and pull until the little window shunts open. Without giving myself a chance to pause and actually think it through I launch myself out of the window and fall through thin air to come down hard on the grass outside, just feet away from the cobbled walkway.

My shoulder screams with pain, I grasp it, wincing. 

Nothing broken... I think.

"HEY! WHO'S THERE?"

I jump up and start to run without trying to locate the source of that shout.

"STOP!" I hear the security guard running heavily over the cobbles to reach me.

Maybe someone 'up there' is looking out for me. Maybe it's even my Dad in some form, but whether cobblestone or ghost something trips the guard and sends him flying. 

I don't pause to turn and look, I just keep running full pelt, over the quad, down the narrow alley between the Winslow and Law buildings then out into the car park and away.