Ashes to Ashes Read Online Free PDF

shit that she won’t be able to go against, even if she is cool with me. There aren’t even any student files on her desk. Everything’s on her computer. I lift my ass off the chair and peer at the screen. It’s open and on, no password required.
    Fuck it. I jump into her chair. If I can look up Mary’s student records, maybe there will be some contact information. Either for Aunt Bette or for her parents. Mary might have gone home to them for the holidays and decided not to come back. If that’s the case, I’ll call her or write her a letter. Better yet, Lillia and I can take a road trip to visit her.
    I open an icon that says “Student Transcripts,” and I type in “Mary Zane” and then hit enter. An hourglass pops up as the computer searches the records. It takes forever because this computer is as old as shit.
    Nothing.
    I try it again with “Zane, Mary.” And then just “Zane,” in case maybe “Mary” is short for some weird name I don’t know. No dice. Weird. I plug in her address and search again. But each time, nothing comes up.
    There’s no record of her at all.
    What the hell?
    I hear a pair of sensible shoes outside the door, and I have just about half a second to get out of Ms. Chirazo’s chair andback into the one on the other side of her desk.
    â€œKat?”
    â€œHey.” I feel like Ms. Chirazo knows I was up to something, because she gives me this weird, distrusting look. I’ve gotten that look hundreds of times, but never from her. “I wanted to stop by and make sure that whole smoking thing from last week was taken care of.” I clear my throat. “I should probably get to class.”
    â€œYes,” she says slowly. “Good idea, Kat.”
    *  *  *
    After school I meander over to the Preservation Society office in White Haven. It’s my first day back since the holidays. The decorations have already been taken down—the wreaths, the electric candles flickering in each of the windows, the balsam greenery they had me wrap around the banisters and the door frame.
    If I had driven straight over, I would have been on time, but I sort of cruised around the island for a bit with my windows down, because, well, I don’t know. I guess I hoped that the fresh air would clear my head. Except it didn’t. I’m as much of a mess as the piles of dirty slushy snow along the road.
    I trudge up the stairs, reeking of cigarettes, my boots soaked clear through, and my nose running snot like crazy. Hopefully they’ll take one look at me and send me home, but as soonas I’m through the door, Danner Longforth jumps out of her office and points at the clock on the wall with a bony, manicured finger.
    Danner Longforth is one of the youngest women working at the Preservation Society. I bet she’s not even thirty. She’s married to a super-old rich guy who lives near the Chos. I doubt she’s ever had a real job. She gets way too excited about office supplies—paper clips and shit.
    â€œKatherine.” Her voice is as thin as her body, and she holds the n sound of my name until she’s standing directly in front of me. “You were supposed to be here thirty minutes ago.”
    It catches me off guard. Danner isn’t my superior or my boss. In fact, I didn’t even think she knew my name. “I—”
    â€œI know you don’t think so, but we do important work here.” She waves at the wall next to us, where a bunch of framed proclamations with fancy calligraphy and gold foil seals are hung up. “Our efforts have been recognized by the governor for the last six years running. And if you want to remain in the privileged position of volunteering here, if you want to receive the kind of recommendation letter that will make your college application shine, you’ll need to earn it. And the very least of your obligations here is to arrive on