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there were a crushing weight all around her. Meredith's fingers felt dry and hot. "Meredith, do you
know what's happened to Stefan?"
"You mean you don't know?" Meredith's dark eyes widened, and Elena felt the weight grow even
more crushing. It was like being deep, deep under water without a pressure suit.
"They haven't… arrested him, have they?" she said, forcing the words out.
"Elena, it's worse than that. He's disappeared. The police went to the boarding house early this
morning and he wasn't there. They came to school, too, but he never showed up today. They said
they'd found his car abandoned out by Old Creek Road. Elena, they think he's left, skipped town,
because he's guilty."
"That's not true," said Elena through her teeth. She saw people turn around and look at her, but she
was beyond caring. "He's innocent!"
"I know you think so, Elena, but why else would he leave?"
"He wouldn't. He didn't." Something was burning inside Elena, a fire of anger that pushed back at
the crushing fear. She was breathing raggedly. "He would never have left of his own free will."
"You mean someone forced him? But who? Tyler wouldn't dare – "
"Forced him, or worse," Elena interrupted. The entire class was staring at them now, and Ms.
Halpern was opening her mouth. Elena stood up suddenly, looking at them without seeing. "God help
him if he's hurt Stefan," she said. "God help him." Then she whirled and made for the door.
"Elena, come back! Elena!" She could hear shouts behind her, Meredith's and Ms. Halpern's. She
walked on, faster and faster, seeing only what was straight ahead of her, her mind fixed on one thing.
They thought she was going after Tyler Smallwood. Good. They could waste their time running in
the wrong direction. She knew what she had to do.
She left the school, plunging into the cold autumn air. She moved quickly, legs eating up the distance
between the school and the Old Creek Road. From there she turned toward Wickery Bridge and the
graveyard.
An icy wind whipped her hair back and stung her face. Oak leaves were flying around her, swirling
in the air. But the conflagration in her heart was searing hot and burned away the cold. She knew now
what a towering rage meant. She strode past the purple beeches and the weeping willows into the
center of the old graveyard and looked around her with feverish eyes.
Above, the clouds were flowing along like a lead-gray river. The limbs of the oaks and beeches
lashed together wildly. A gust threw handfuls of leaves into her face. It was as if the graveyard were
trying to drive her out, as if it were showing her its power, gathering itself to do something awful to
her.
Elena ignored all of it. She spun around, her burning gaze searching between the headstones. Then
she turned and shouted directly into the fury of the wind. Just one word, but the one she knew would
bring him.
"Damon!"