“Then, Saturday night,” Whitney says, “will be the Seine River Dinner Cruise. I think everyone will be so excited when they find out it’s really a murder mystery party. So, Keatyn and Logan, the plan is to let everyone eat their gourmet picnics, and then the cast will get out of their seats and start the play?”

I nod and Logan says, “Yeah, it will be really fun. It’s written so that we’re all on this dinner cruise, eating the gourmet picnics made by me, Wolfgang Pluck. Then you find out someone has been murdered and who all the potential suspects are.”

“Perfect,” Whitney says, “and the tables will have to work together to figure out whodunit?”

“Yes,” I reply. “Each table will turn in their guess of which suspect did it and the winning tables will get some fun prizes.”

“And then Sunday afternoon, students can learn how to play the French lawn bowling game—or boules, as it is known—and go to the matinée movie, which will be showing a French film,” Brad says.

“That all sounds really great,” Brooke says excitedly.

“All right,” Brad says, “I think we have this all figured out. Everyone, make sure you work with your liaison clubs so that things go smoothly. We’ll meet again Friday morning at . . .” He looks at me. “Let’s meet at 7:30. We shouldn’t have too much to go over.”

I give him a big smile. “You’re lucky. I had just decided to mutiny if we had another meeting so early.”

Brad laughs, “Let’s go get some coffee.”

Aiden wraps his arm tightly around my waist, gives me a kiss, and says, “Enjoy your coffee. I have to run down to shop class.”

“What for?”

“To oversee the creation of Hawthorne house’s decoration.”

“Fun. What are you doing?”

“Don’t tell her,” Brad says to Aiden. “They’re the competition.”

“Us girls are decorating all our windows to honor Parisian shopping. Is Hawthorne doing that too?” I ask with a laugh.

“Ha. Ours is gonna blow yours away. It’s amazing what we’ll do to avoid wearing our uniforms for one day.”

Emergency fund.

Ceramics

I’m in ceramics, glazing, when I hear a Psst from the hall.

I turn around and see Maggie. Our teacher is in the back room, so I sneak out to talk to her.

“I just talked to the dean,” she says.

“How’d it go?”

“He didn’t have good news. All the scholarships for the year have been given out.”

“There isn’t any kind of emergency fund?”

“He said he would see what he could do, but not to get my hopes up.”

I give her a big hug. “It will all work out. He’ll find something.”

“I sure hope so.”

As I’m painting the overglaze on my bowl, I’m thinking. Trying to figure out how I can help Maggie. Aiden and I watched as her and Logan’s lives followed one of my scripts. They’re back together where they belong, and I know in my heart they are destined to be that way forever. I’m not going to allow fate to rip them apart.

So, I’m going to intervene.

The question is how?

It’d be easy to just offer to pay for it. Write her a check for next semester. Done.

But what if I’m not here next semester. Or next year?

And I don’t ever want her to feel like she owes me.

I finish glazing, look up the annual tuition on the school’s website, and then ask my teacher if I can go speak to the dean about some French weekend stuff.

She writes me out a pass, so I leave ceramics, run to my dorm to get my checkbook, and then head to the office.

I give the dean’s assistant the same excuse.

She leads me in, tells him why I need his ear for a few minutes, and then walks out leaving the door open.

I follow her, shutting the door, and then sit down.

“We on a top secret mission, Miss Monroe?” the dean asks.

“Actually, kinda. I know Maggie came in and spoke to you earlier and that you didn’t have good news for her.”

“I’m afraid not. I have some alumni that I could call, but usually the first thing they ask is about the student’s grades. Hers are not stellar.”

“But she does tons of activities and she still gets mostly Bs.”

“I’ll do what I can,” he says.

“That’s not good enough.” I lay my checkbook on his desk. “Okay, then, I’d like to start a scholarship fund. One for emergency situations such as this. And I’d like the first recipient to be Maggie. This scholarship comes with a few strings.”

“What kind of strings?”

“It’s anonymous.”

“Many are. That’s not a problem. Will this be a one-time scholarship?”

“You mean will it be just for Maggie or will it go on for other students too?”

“Yes, most scholarship funds go on for years, but we can set this up so that it just helps Maggie.”

I think about Eastbrooke and how at home and safe I’ve felt during my short time here. The amazing people I’ve met. I don’t want anyone to have to leave if they don’t want to. I don’t want them to have to say good-bye to their friends.

“I think I’d like it to go on after Maggie. How would I do that?”

He rolls his chair over to a file cabinet and pulls out a folder. “This is what we give to someone interested in setting up a fund. Typically, they donate a large enough amount so that it supports itself.”

“What do you mean?”

“The school invests the donation and the scholarship money is taken out of the dividends earned.”

I smile. “I like that idea.” Something that will go on long after I’m gone. I flip through the file looking for specific numbers. “I don’t see any suggested amounts. What would it take to fund something like this? I want it to be more than just the tuition. I want to include, like, a stipend too.”

“Are you really serious about this?”

“Yes, very.”

“Okay, well, if you wanted to do it every year for one student, then decide how much of a stipend you want them to receive. If you figure your initial investment to earn a conservative ten percent, that’s how you figure it.”

I do some quick math in my head. “I want you to be able to use your discretion. I want each student to get this.” I write down a number. “Plus have room, board, meals, and activities covered. Which is this.” I write down another number. “So that means if I wanted it available for, say, three to five students a year, then I’d need this?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And you promise no one will know who gets the funds? I don’t want their friends to know they needed help.”

“We’ll notify you anytime we have a need. If you want, you can be the one to decide if the need is great enough.”

“Would you have given it to Maggie if this scholarship was already in place?”

He nods. “Maggie is a lovely person and an asset to our school, regardless of her grades. She’s active socially. Always upbeat. I suspect she will be in the running for dance team captain next year. She’d even be a candidate for prefect if she brought her grades up.”

I start to get little tears in my eyes. I’m so happy I’m able to do this. And I know Maggie will be so relieved. I open my checkbook. “Who do I make it out to?”

“Are you sure you are in a position to do this? It’s very unusual for a current student to start a scholarship fund.”

“I’m not like most students,” I say with a sad smile. “When will you tell her?”

“I’ll have to do some paperwork to get everything set up, and let the check clear before we can do anything officially. But I’ll call the bank to verify that the funds are in place and tell Maggie we’ve found a solution this afternoon, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” I say, getting up to leave.

“Keatyn,” he says, “sit back down. Is everything all right?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“You don’t seem fine. You looked sad just now.”

“I have some family issues. They’re starting to sort themselves out, but when I left for Thanksgiving break, I wasn’t sure I’d be back. I have little sisters and I need to make sure they are . . .” I almost say safe, but stop myself. “Happy. Well taken care of.”