Credence was slightly offended by the surprised looks she received when she joined breakfast the next day.

"Unholy hells," Gregory said in an astonished gasp when she sat. "I thought for sure you were dead!"

"I've been spared," Credence said with a roll of her eyes. "The Headmaster was actually quite lovely."

Now she had the full attention of her table. Credence didn't want it, and deflected the barrage of questions with terse answers that quickly lost the interest of her peers. A couple of the older students approached and playfully punched her arm, saying things like, "All right, little miss?", or, "Headmaster didn't make you walk across fire, eh?"

They all expected her to appear with some sort of wound or battle scar—if they expected her to return at all.

No one spoke of Adam or his outburst in the hallway. They were already onto the next bit of gossip, which, after Credence's miracle return, concerned two older students who had been caught sleeping in the same bed. By the time Adam did return, Credence guessed his infamy would be long forgotten.

She noted that Penny was more careful when eating her food. She picked through each bite, examining it before putting it in her mouth. Credence couldn't blame her, and imagined it would take a fair bit of time for the girl to trust any meal again.

The poor girl looked tired, with circles under her eyes and a slump in her posture.

"Are you all right?" Credence asked her.

"Didn't sleep well," Penny mumbled. "Stomach's a bit queasy."

"Medicine will help," Gregory butt in and Penny nodded in agreement.

***

As she walked to her first lesson, Credence thought about what the Headmaster said. If she looked for evil, she would find it everywhere, so she tried letting go of her doubts about the school, and see it through eyes that only sought out good. She was pleasantly surprised to find that when she did, her surroundings felt more comfortable and bright.

She was lucky to be here, given the alternative. She could still be out in the woods, starving and cold. She could be Lilith's slave, receiving constant beatings and insults. She could be strapped to a chair in the house of Gretel and Hansel.

She could be wearing a bridal gown and waiting for the Collector.

When she passed by a window she saw two domestics busy in the courtyard, digging a hole to plant a new sapling in the orchard. Outside, the day was cool and lovely.

In class, the Headmaster showed no hint of harboring ill will towards her, but began the morning's lesson as usual, and Credence took this as a comforting sign.

A sign of new beginnings.

The Headmaster was well into his lecture when something caught Credence's eye.

An advantage to sitting in the back of the room was that she had a view of everyone, and when Credence's gaze idly passed over Penny she noticed the girl was shivering.

Not shivering, but noticeably rattling, like invisible hands were holding the girl's shoulders and shaking her. Credence thought little of it until Penny's hand reached up to touch her head—and she pulled a clump of hair away from her skull.

Odd, thought Credence.

But not as odd as when Penny stuffed the clump into her mouth and chewed it several times before swallowing. 

And then Penny did it again, taking hair from her head without any resistance, as if the strands were not connected by the root, and shoving it past her lips. Credence couldn't help being concerned, so she raised her hand to get the Headmaster's attention.

"What is it," he asked with a slight irk in his voice.

"I'm sorry, Headmaster, but...is Penny all right?"

All eyes turned to Penny, who quickly removed her hand from her head, where it had already been poised to grab a third helping of hair.

"Penny," the Headmaster addressed the girl, "are you feeling well?"

"Mmm," Penny mumbled at first. She swallowed, and it was only Credence who knew why, before replying with hesitation, "Y-yes, Headmaster. I feel fine."

She shot Credence a deadly glare.

"Why the concern, Credence?" the Headmaster asked. 

Should she tell the truth? Should she embarrass Penny by revealing her eccentric habit?

"I was mistaken," Credence muttered. "Thought I saw something. I'm sorry."

"Remember our discussion on suspicion," the Headmaster warned and Credence nodded.

"I'll be quiet, Headmaster."

During the rest of the lesson, Penny threw several scowls at Credence but didn't attempt another feeding. As they were walking towards their next class, she jostled Credence with her elbow.

"What was that about," Penny snapped.

"It was nothing," Credence said guiltily. "I was just tired."

"Keep your nothing's to your damn self!" Penny snarled.

"Are you all right though?" Credence asked, trying to be sympathetic.

The answer was another sharp elbow to her back, and Credence hushed at that.

Penny kept an eye on Credence throughout the whole day, and Credence resigned to keeping her mouth shut for the rest of her life, and worry only about her own problems.

The next day, however, Penny brought attention to herself.

It started as a sporadic cough, but grew until the girl was completely overtaken by violent hacking, and she gasped for breath and clutched at her chest.

It became impossible to continue with the lesson.

"Penny—" the Headmaster began and the poor girl held her hand up in apology, but she couldn't speak through her sputtering and choking.

The sounds coming from her became so worrisome that the Headmaster moved to her, and he slapped her back hard, as if he thought she might have something lodged in her throat.

But his strike did nothing to help the child, only sent her from her seat onto the floor.

Penny began to pant and grunt, sounding not unlike a hog, and she pounded the ground with her fists.

The Headmaster gathered her in his arms and Penny let out a terrible scream. She twisted and writhed in the Headmaster's arms as he moved to the door, and the corners of her mouth began to foam with thick saliva. The last thing the class heard the Headmaster say was an exasperated, slightly irritated mumbling of, "Another one for the infirmary."

Once more prematurely alone, the students wiggled nervously in their seats. The Headmaster had left without instruction and they had no other course than to suffer in endless worry. Either the Headmaster would return or the ringing bell would signal their movement to the next class. No other option was known to them.

"Just like the other boy," Lily muttered. She slapped her hand over her mouth, not meaning to speak out loud.

But the damage had already been done, and the rest of the class took her breaking of the silence as an invitation to voice their concerns.

"Like Adam," Credence added.

She was horrified when every last student turned to her with accusation in their eyes, implying Penny's disturbance was somehow her fault.

"What?" Credence said in a defensive tone. "Why are you looking at me?"

"You talked to the Headmaster alone," Lily answered for everyone. "What did he say to you?"

"What did he tell you about Adam," Gregory added.

Credence shrugged. "He said Adam was in the infirmary."

"What if something's going around," Gregory posed. His face grew pale when he pondered out loud, "What if it's the green lung again?"

"It's not the green lung," another student snapped. "We take our medicine, don't we?"

"What's green lung?" Credence asked.

Most of the class shrugged at the question, but Gregory explained, "It came to the school...a year ago? Maybe more. I only just got here when one student caught it, and then another. In the end, four were struck with it."

"What happened to them?"

"Started with coughing, if I remember right. Awful noises came from them, and they were in pain. And—I swear I saw someone spit up a leaf."

"A leaf," Lily said dully. "You're always lying."

"Am not! He pulled a damned leaf from his mouth." Gregory frowned and none of his usual teasing humor remained in his tone when he said, "All of them were taken to the infirmary, but none of them came back." He winced, reliving some horrible memory. "Everyone was scared. Even the Headmaster was worried, and after they...when they died...he changed."

"How?" asked Credence. "Was he sad?"

"He was happy," Gregory answered. "Not happy that they died, but happy that the green lung was defeated. That's what he said, that it was gone, and the only way to keep it that way was to take medicine."

"It's a new thing, the medicine?" Credence asked.

Gregory nodded. "Only started taking it after the green lung came. That's why the Headmaster makes sure we all get our dose, so it can never come back."

"Why's it called the green lung," questioned the other boy in the class.

"That's what the Headmaster named it," Gregory said simply. "He was so happy that it was gone. He became nicer...gentler, I suppose. I think he was relieved the green lung didn't take more students. He planted the trees outside, four of them, in remembrance of each person who died. We all agreed it was a nice thing to do."

"That's where the medicine comes from," Credence admitted, thinking this reveal would shock everyone.

To her surprise, no one batted an eye.

"You're a quick one," Gregory mocked. "Everyone knows the medicine is sap. But the trees it comes from are special."

"I thought we took the medicine because it was a treat," Credence grumbled back.

"No one would ever give us a treat without cause, not even the Headmaster. We take it so no one else dies."

A chorus of voices rose, as every student argued against the assessment until Gregory threw his hands up and stood from his seat, taking a stance that threatened physical quarrel was near.

"I don't care what you all think," he spat at them. "I've been at school longer than anyone in this room! Serves me right for trying to help!"

"How could anyone have caught the green lung now," Lily questioned gently, "if we all take our medicine?"

"I don't know," Gregory said. "It might not even be the green lung. It might be something else, something new."

"What if the medicine is tainted," Credence suggested.

"No, no, the medicine's the only thing keeping us healthy," Gregory said. "Maybe Penny wasn't taking enough."

"Maybe there's something in the food," Credence said ominously and looked at Gregory. "You remember what Penny found."

Gregory waved a dismissive hand. "Ah, that was nothing. It's happened before."

"It has? You were just as surprised as the rest of us."

"When did it happen," demanded Lily, who was angry that Gregory withheld this information.

"I don't know when, damn it! Some girl found something in her stew once. Some kind of lace or rope or something. One of the older students told me."

"You know everything, don't you," another student teased.

"More than you, idiot." Gregory's eyes darted between Credence and Lily. "I asked around after Penny found the shirt."

"I asked the Headmaster, too," Credence added. "He said it was the domestics' fault, but it was an accident."

Gregory's eyes grew wide. "You don't think the domestics are trying to...do something...to us, do you?"

Credence bit her tongue. This was exactly what she had promised not to do. Raising suspicion. Finding evil everywhere.

"No," Credence said firmly, "they just have accidents sometimes."

It felt silly to say it.

"That's probably right," Gregory said with a shrug. "Those hags can barely talk. They can't do more than sweep and cook and sew."

"And scowl," said the other male student and most of the class snickered.

A part of Credence wanted to reveal that she had seen Penny eating her hair, but another part cautioned her against growing alarm in the room.

"We shouldn't be talking," reprimanded a girl at the front of the class, who had remained silent for as long as she could stand. "If we're heard it'll mean punishment for sure."

At her warning, the class remembered their place and grew quiet.

No one wanted trouble, so they waited in silence for the ringing of the bell to move them. For the rest of the day the class contemplated Penny, the green lung, and the meaning of it all.

None more so than Credence.

She tried not to grow her worry, but when Penny didn't rejoin them at dinner her agitation became a heated stone in her stomach. She tossed and turned in bed, fighting herself in a series of troubling arguments.

Her promise to the Headmaster was being broken. He should be trusted, and Credence shouldn't give any thought to Penny at all—

But she couldn't help suspect that somehow, whatever happened to Adam had something to do with Penny.

A sinister pattern was emerging.

Something was happening to the children of the school, and it was Gregory, of all people, who had given Credence the perfect theory:

The Headmaster was harmless, but the domestics' motivations remained questionable.

They were the quiet servants, the guardians of the school's secrets. They had to know everything that went on within its walls, for they were the true overseers of its care and functioning.

But the only one who might be able to stop them was the only one Credence didn't want to upset. She didn't want the Headmaster to think her a troublemaker, but if she didn't bring his attention to possible danger she might regret it for the rest of her life.

Or she might be the next one sent to the infirmary.

The risk is worth it, she decided.

She would pay the Headmaster another visit and open his eyes to the disturbing trend.

After all, he'd been so kind when they talked before.