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Eleanor Bell

18 rue Châtel

55100 Verdun, France

Beloas acode

1-11-1-33-7-13-58-1-8-2

I emptied the contents onto randfather reading my mail that I didn’t care My best friend fro around Europe with herme postcards sealed in envelopes for privacy, each froland; Utrecht, Netherlands; Immenstaad, Germany; Frosses, Ireland Waxy landscapes decorated the mirror over my dresser, a pathetic but welcome stand-in for Eleanor This one was a picture of a shireen islands I flipped it over

Renée,

Bonjour from Verdun! As in Verdun, France, which is where I a me to all of these re history She’s also been really paranoid, like we’re not safe She’s worried about pickpockets and thieves, but the places we’ve visited are practically off the map and pretty s It’s weird how obsessed she is To be honest, I think she’s actually worried about e what I aplaces she can somehow reverse what happened Anyway, it’s hardly fun without you here Hope you have an a birthday

Love,

Eleanor D Bell

I read the last lines again, knowing exactly how she felt Eleanor had been a Monitor, like me, until last year, when she drowned and reanimated into an Undead Now her Monitor parents could put her to rest at will I knew that fear because I’d seen it in Dante’s eyes, a momentary lapse of trust when he realized that I was a Monitor, and that so the envelope next to the postcard, I picked up a pencil, and, following theI wrote down the first word of Eleanor’s note, then the eleventh word after that, then the first word after that, then the thirty-third, and so on, until I was left with the following e:

Renée,

I aered on the letter D, feeling an aching hollowness within me Dante As I said his na within me had just come alive I hadn’t seen him since he’d kissed iven me back one back to the Renée I had been before the kiss, and Dante should have gone back to being Undead But soht I could barely even recall what happened that day in the field; I must have left hi I kneas surrounded by professors, who carriedThat was the last time I could remember the smell of flowers or the feel of the sun onwas dull and colorless, a world lass of cold water on a hot day? To taste the tartness of a summer peach? These days, I could barely recall what it felt like to enjoy even simple pleasures like that

My only comfort was the memory of Dante, and the hope that once I saw him, I would be able to understand what had happened to me, and what had happened to him Was he alive? Was he Undead? Or soes through Eleanor all summer, each brief and devoid of any information other than that he was safe I knew he didn’t have a choice He was in hiding; he had to be concise But where did that leave me? Dante couldn’t return to Gottfried; the professors suspected hih he hadn’t, he could never tell theave it back--because it was still murder If he went back to Gottfried the Monitors would sense him, find him, and bury him So hoould I see hiain?

I read his er as I ih thescreen with the rain Placing the postcard next to the others on my bureau, I went to the bathroom and turned on the shower, a little less upset that it was lanced in the ; I didn’t just look older; I looked different, surreal--ular and expressive and soht, or had I just not noticed until now? Stealass Dante, I wrote on theon the surface slowly thickened, until all I could see of my face was his name

The mansion was unusually quiet as I ainst the side of the house "Hello?" I said, ski the banister; but when I reached the dining room, it was empty The chandelier was lit, but the table was bare Water trickled down the s "Dustin?" I called out I andering into the hall when I heard a h the doors From the corner of the room came the scratchy voice of an announcer "The news of this chilling tragedy has left many of us in shock"