CHAPTER TWO451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjs93p2t8G6
Juma451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgcBEV3n49B
Juma strolled along the back edge of the boys’ compound, his hands deep in his pockets, whistling softly as the sky deepened toward dusk. 451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDIawIxU68d
The sky’s turning that deep, bruised blue as he makes his way along the fence line, whistling a tune that bounces off the old stone wall. It’s habit by now-a way of letting anyone listening know he’s here, without saying a word.451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfM5svrRs3r
He liked this time of day, when most of the others were at prep and the fields were quiet, the only sounds the distant calls of birds and the low hum of the town beyond the wall.451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8ttl8Ttneq
Near the service gate, he slows down. The latch is loose, same as always. He nudges it with his foot, careful not to look too interested.451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡi4O5btyWnJ
He glanced at the ground-a scuffed patch of earth, a faint trail leading away from the wall. Someone else might have missed it, but Juma noticed the details: a scrap of blue thread snagged on the wire, shoe prints smaller than his own pressed into the soft dirt. He crouched, brushing the thread free, and tucked it into his pocket.451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeDcbdMbfpX
He didn’t linger.451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGD1aHm8hUl
Juma smiled to himself, careful not to look back as he walked away. The clues were there for those who knew how to look, but the secret-like the pool-remained just out of reach.451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡogY8vIum6Z
**********451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBShS45PfRx
Kim451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2HvhHiMM0J
I’m halfway through my lunch, picking at rice and beans, when a Form One girl I barely recognize appears at my elbow. She doesn’t say a word-just shoves an envelope into my hand so quickly I almost drop my fork. She barely met my eyes, her eyes dart around, and before I can even ask her name, she’s already weaving through the crowd, head down, as if she’s afraid someone might see her, just pressed the book into my hands and hurried away, but I knew the moment I saw the tiny winged sandal stamped in the corner: this was from the Order of Hermes.451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCp6rHpcgk0
The envelope feels heavier than it should-a single slip of paper, tied with a twist of blue thread, but my fingers tingle as I turn it over. But it’s the way the letter arrives that makes me pause. I only notice it because the envelope is sealed with a tiny scrap of blue thread-just like the one I found on the wall, the one that made me start asking questions in the first place.451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBKaskBimJG
Rumor has it that the Order of Hermes, even though no one knows who runs it, everyone knows someone who claims to have gotten a message from them. They say the Order uses secret signals-colored threads, folded corners, a certain way of knocking on a desk-to pass notes between students. 451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡux1HX6EyZd
Supposedly, they can get a letter to anyone, anywhere, without teachers or prefects ever catching on. Some people think the Order is just a myth, but every so often, a letter shows up in a place no one should be able to reach, and the stories start up again.451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡh5qdqzqvDq
Juma doesn’t strike me as the type to know about secret codes or school legends. Did he use the thread on purpose? Is he part of the Order of Hermes? Or is someone else using him to send me a message?451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbfFOZpOpBv
I turn the envelope over and over in my hands, searching for another clue. The delivery is too perfect-It’s exactly the kind of thing people whisper about when they talk about the Order. Some say it’s just a bunch of bored prefects; others claim it’s a network of messengers who can get a note to anyone, anywhere, without ever being caught. I never really believed the stories-until now.451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1B4DXiZPh1
I wish I still had the other letter, the one with the careful handwriting and the secret instructions about the bougainvillea. I keep replaying the moment in the library, how I tucked it into novel and then, distracted, returned the book to the shelf. By the time I realized, it was too late. I’ve checked the shelves twice since, but the book is gone-maybe checked out, maybe lost forever. The regret sits heavy in my chest, a secret I can’t admit to anyone.451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpewS1Es6S0
Now, holding Juma’s letter, I wonder if the two are connected. Did the Order find the letter I lost? Are they testing me, or warning me, or just playing a game I don’t know the rules to? I want to ask Juma, but I’m afraid of what he might say-or what he might not know.451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGc2TbruNhH
I’m still smiling when I open the letter-a real, ordinary letter, not a riddle or a code. Juma’s handwriting is big and a little messy, and he apologizes right away for what happened with Seline at the sports event. He says he didn’t mean for things to get awkward, and hopes I’m not upset. He even draws a crooked little smiley face at the end, and for a moment, I just feel light. It’s nice, being thought of. It’s nice, too, that he doesn’t seem to know about all the clues and secrets that have been swirling around me lately.451Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJXxoaDC0ax
I tuck Juma’s letter away, the blue thread burning against my palm. I tell myself it’s just a coincidence, but I can’t quite believe it. Maybe Juma’s just being sweet. Maybe the Order is real. Or maybe I’m already tangled up in something much bigger than I realize.1234 copyright protection447ＰＥＮＡＮＡS8AKhSvtZ3 尼

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