Whim Manor And the Boy Who Wasn't.

Harper Watson and the Girl Who Wasn't

"That's what we're about to find out," Graham said without any of his usual gruffness, almost the way he was after Caroline Tanner had her fall.

"You're not to talk about this with any of the other girls." Ms. Windsor locked eyes with me. "Understand?"

I nodded back, and when that didn't seem like enough, I added, "Yes, Head Mistress."

"Good." She opened a laptop on a side table and turned it so that everyone could see. A few seconds later, a window popped open, and a face appeared.

It was a man, late-middle-aged, bald with a thick mustache, and of Indian descent. He had on a blue button-down shirt, a sweater vest, and a bow tie. The room he was in, what we could see of it, was covered with books and certificates hanging from the back wall.

"Is everyone here?" He asked; his voice unsteadied, if just a bit. "It that Harper, Mary's friend?"

"Yes," Ms. Windsor nodded.

"Mary?" I asked.

The man looked off in thought before speaking. "My apologies. My name is Pete Singh... Doctor Singh," he said, "I'm a professor of Mathematics and Statistics at Stanford University. And mentor to Mary Adler..." He took a deep breath, "who you know as Wilhelmina Manor."

After clearing his throat, gently, Graham stated, "While we were looking for Victoria, I found Whim's picture up on the missing children's database... under the name 'Mary Adler.'"

The two shared a nod, and Doctor Singh continued, "Mary is an extraordinarily gifted person. She already has a master's in statistics and is working on her P.H.D. in Abstract Linear Algebra. She's smarter than me, smarter than anyone I know, but her life has not been without... challenges. Eight years ago, her family car spun off the road, in the dead of winter," he bit his lip, shaking his head at his choice of words. "Her parents saved her, but her father froze... to death, and her mother died of complications a few days later. I think we can all agree that deserves some consideration." He paused for a moment.

"Of course," said Ms. Windsor, and Graham, looking shaken, added, "Yes. Of course."

My throat felt thick. I found myself blinking away tears.

"Good," Singh said, "Mary deals with this by creating fictions... ones where her parents are still alive, kidnapped by some evil 'villain' only she has the power to stop. Harper..." he addressed me, "you'll have to forgive them, but Ms. Windsor and Graham told me about your... gender dysphoria?"

I'd heard the word, but hadn't thought about applying it to myself. "Yeah that," I said.

"And Mary's been helping you deal with it?"

"Yes," I nodded.

He shook his head. "She recruits 'vulnerable' people into these fantasies. Don't worry. She likes you, she is your friend, and she's only trying to help. But she's not fooling herself. She knows her fantasies aren't real. But she tries to make them real by living them vicariously through someone else's eyes. Which is why I thought it right to tell you."

"Oh," I said. "So Victoria really was at a funeral?"

Ms. Windsor sighed. "Visiting a dying relative. I really shouldn't discuss it, but you already know?"

I nodded.

First coughing gently, Graham said, "Can you tell us anything about where she is? What she's been up to?"

"She went on a 'rescue mission.'" My words came out with a shiver, "to save Victoria... I tried to text her but her phone is disconnected... or something."