The Mystery Of Eastbrooks High

Chapter Twenty-Five: Survival Of The Fittest

THERE WERE SEVERAL BOOKS SCATTERED ACROSS the mantelpiece. It was evident that both Tamaya and Shane were avid readers, judging by the overflow of books everywhere. Their library was spectacular, the collections there were phenomenal. All of them tended to spend most of their time in the library. The genres present were diverse: fiction, nonfiction, encyclopedias, books of other languages, and textbook type books on several topics. The Catcher in the Rye, The Hunger Games, To Kill a Mockingbird, Atomic Habits, Du côté de chez Swann, Becoming, Medicinal Chemistry- 7th Edition, Social Psychology, Le Mariage de Figaro, Artificial Intelligence- A Modern Approach, Encyclopedia Britannica, Check&Mate.

There were random books open everywhere, and the members of the bookclub took every book they found and read them, irrespective of what they were about. That was how her interest circle was widening slowly. Norah realized that psychology and neuroscience could be something she could pursue academically when she'd been going through the mountain of books on several topics and read each one of them, finding psychology extremely interesting.

Norah had caught hold of psychology textbook describing interesting psychological experiments; Austin was reading a book about the world's political situations post world-war; Tamaya had her fingers curled protectively over a book called The Chemistry Of Powder And Explosives; Divya had her head buried into a book on criminals and their tells. Seriously, the book collection was so random, it sometimes made Norah laugh. Once, she'd spotted a parenting book named Toddlers are assholes; Its not your fault. Another time, Aurelia had pointed out that two completely opposite books beside each other- How to Win Friends and Influence People and The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck.

Half of the remaining bookclub members were sprawled out across the giant leather couches in the sitting room after eating their dinner. They were always with each other, since they lived in the same house, but it wasn't like they had an option anyway. The detectives and the police advised the bookclub members to stick with each other at all times, both so that it would be easier to keep an eye on them, and since they'd have each others' companies. And would feel safe with others, was the ending of the sentence that they didn't say out loud.

Norah's worried gaze went to Tamaya, who was sitting beside Austin. Both of them were speaking with each other in a low tone. Austin had seemed very concerned about Tamaya the moment Norah told him about what Divya had seen. His terrified eyes sought hers out, and Norah had squeezed his hand in a silent promise before nodding to the living room. Austin had taken off like a bullet, no doubt worried about a friend he'd known since his childhood. He often told Norah that since both their families had owned large companies and were super rich, Tamaya and Austin understood each other in ways others couldn't.

Someone else were watching Tamaya with a troubled gaze too- Shane. He was watching his daughter in a way like he was scared she would disappear the next moment. Someone trailed their finger across Norah's bandage, and she flinched.

"Emma," Norah complained in a whisper, watching the blond mop of curls spring out and twist around. For once, there was no playfulness or anger twinkling in Emma's eyes. The concern written all over Emma's expression smacked Norah in her face. Jace's hand tightened over her elbow from her other side tightened.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and Jace dropped his head onto her shoulder, "And what exactly are you sorry for, Nor? Losing your temper over a situation that's enraging?" Jace asked wearily. "Just- just be careful with yourself, yeah? And take it easy. I know the advice is shit considering our current situation, but there's nothing we can do right now. Why are you so edgy today in the first place?" he asked her, narrowing his eyes. "Did you take your meds?"

"Fuck," Norah swore, her hands going to her head. There was the answer. She missed two of her antidepressant doses. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh, god, I missed two doses," Norah groaned, and she sensed both Emma and Jace stand up from beside her. "Norah," both of them said loudly, panic and worry evident on their expressions. Of course, she missed her doses. She'd been thinking why she'd lost control over the careful lid of emotions. Her psychiatrist had warned her over the consequences, that missing one or more doses of the antidepressants could make her treatment less effective and come with a few symptoms.