LAMIAE

CHAPTER EIGHT: NEW SCHOOL

"Two days after my birthday," said Dagmara, and the woman nodded as if she had thought the same. Then she looked at her watch, which said it was quarter to nine, so she told her granddaughter to hurry up. She gave her the information in which room the students were to meet the teacher, and then she kissed her stiffly on the top of the head as goodbye.

When Dagmara reached the car, the engine was already running. She got into it clumsily with her purse and jacket under her arm. Casper giggled.

"I was just making bets with Tie about when you'd come..." he glanced at the back seat, where a black cat had made itself comfortable.

"Ha, ha, ha," she replied ironically, slamming the door behind her. "And you haven't by any chance considered letting him drive?" she continued, stating that Tie was probably the only cat living on the earth who really liked traveling by car.

"Well... I have," he said, turning on the lights and pressing the gas at the same time. "But he doesn't reach the pedals."

The drive to her school took ten to fifteen minutes. Throughout this time Dagmara didn't speak until Casper asked if she was okay, but when the girl assured him that she was fine, just a little stressed, he left her alone. It wasn't entirely true, because the stress didn't bother her as much as the awareness that the boy next to her two years ago survived the death of someone close to him. Just like her, with the only difference that after her mother's death, she was forced to talk to many people, from a psychologist to a priest. Casper was much more secretive, so he probably didn't talk to anyone bout it. Maybe that's why he and her grandmother got along so well – they both didn't like to show affection.

She stared at the sights passing by outside the window, but her gaze was blank and absent. Having lived all her life in the capital, she never knew the young person who was murdered. She wondered about the motive, because there had to be one - rape, theft? But if Victoria wasn't raped or robbed, it didn't make any sense. Murders are usually planned, and even if not, they are the result of arguments, misunderstandings or tensions.

"We're here," Casper said as they approached a building with a large signboard of a Roman nine and a dozen teenagers hanging around it. She noted with satisfaction that she wouldn't stand out from the crowd.

"Will you wait here? Please. It shouldn't take long," she folded her hands pleadingly.

"You know... Nothing is free. I think you'll have to replace Tie's litter box... If so, I'm at your disposal. You say wait, I'll wait."

She smiled at him, and looked over her shoulder at the cat as if she wanted to thank him in this way.

"Deal," she replied, then got out, breathing in the fresh summer air.

Changing the litter box isn't too bad, she reassured herself, though she secretly hoped he wasn't serious.

Her school wasn't some edifice of endless floors and stairs. In fact, each classroom was arranged in its proper order, so she expected she'd have no trouble finding a class. The only trouble came when she had to find the gymnasium where the headmaster was to give a speech at nine o'clock. Since it was a few minutes past 9 am and practically all students were already in the designated place, she decided that instead of looking for a gym, she would rather look around for the room assigned to her class.

Unfortunately, what she initially thought was easy turned out to be devilishly difficult. The classrooms were not sorted by numbers, otherwise there should have been room 318 after 317, not 325. So there must have been some other "hierarchy" such as, for example, the whole second floor had classrooms where teenagers would study science or humanities.

Each floor was painted a different color, which made it easier for her to orient herself As a result, she learned that the ground floor was in the basement and was the only one with white walls. The first floor was painted yellow, the second floor was light blue, the third floor apricot. At the very top there were two more classrooms, which could be either laboratories, computer rooms, or simply religious or ethical rooms.