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We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from The Library at Hellebore, a new, deeply dark academia novel by Cassandra Khaw, out from Nightfire on July 22nd. 我们很高兴分享 Cassandra Khaw 的新黑暗学院小说《黑刺图书馆》的节选，该书将于 7 月 22 日由 Nightfire 出版

The Hellebore Technical Institute for the Gifted is the premier academy for the dangerously powerful: the Anti-Christs and Ragnaroks, the world-eaters and apocalypse-makers. 黑刺天才技术学院是危险强大者的顶级学府：反基督与诸神黄昏，世界吞噬者与末日制造者。

Hellebore promises redemption, acceptance, and a normal life after graduation. At least, that’s what Alessa Li is told when she’s kidnapped and forcibly enrolled. 黑刺承诺毕业后的救赎、接纳和正常生活。至少，当艾莉莎·李被绑架并被强制入学时，她是这样被告知的。

But there’s more to Hellebore than meets the eye. On graduation day, the faculty go on a ravenous rampage, feasting on Alessa’s class. Only Alessa and a group of her classmates escape the carnage. Trapped in the school’s library, they must offer a human sacrifice every night, or else the faculty will break down the door and kill everyone. 但黑刺远不止表面所见。在毕业日那天，教职员工对艾莉莎的班级进行了一场疯狂的暴行，他们大快朵颐。只有艾莉莎和一群她的同学逃脱了这场屠杀。被困在学校图书馆里，他们每晚必须献祭一个人类，否则教职员工就会破门而入，杀死所有人。

Can they band together and survive, or will the faculty eat its fill? 他们能否团结一致并存活下来，或者教职员工将大快朵颐？

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Before 在 When I woke up, my roommate, Johanna, was dead. 当我醒来时，我的室友约翰娜已经死了。

This was neither the first time I’d come to with a body at my feet, nor was it even the first time I had returned to consciousness in a room transformed into a literal abattoir, but it was the first time I woke up relieved to be in a mess. The walls were soaked in effluvium. Every piece of linen on our beds was at least moderately pink with gore. The floor was a soup of viscera, intestines like ribbons unstrung over the scuffed wood; it’d been a deep gorgeous ebony once, but now, like the rest of our room, it was just red. 这既不是我有尸体在我脚边醒来的第一次，也不是我第一次在一个被彻底变成屠宰场的房间里恢复意识，但这是我第一次醒来时庆幸自己身处混乱之中。墙壁上沾满了污秽。我们床上的每一件床单都至少被血染成了中度粉色。地板上是一锅内脏，肠子像散开的丝带一样挂在磨损的木地板上；曾经那是一块深邃华丽的乌木，但现在，和我们房间里的其他地方一样，它只是红色的。

Carefully, I reached for Johanna’s outflung arm, the one desolate limb to have survived what happened to her, and folded it over her chest, closing my hands over her knuckles. She was still here. There were even parts I could recognize. When it struck me, I thought I’d wake up and none of what I did would have mattered, that her body would be missing. But she was still here. It wasn’t much but it was something. I’m not religious in any sense of the word. Far as I’m concerned, dirt’s the only holy thing in the world. It can make roses out of even the worst losers: in death, we achieve meaning. I stared at the mess. While I could give a dead rat’s rotten lungs about divinity, I had a lot more compassion to dole out when it came to the dead—especially when the deceased in question was someone I’d just achieved character growth with. 我小心翼翼地伸出手，握住约翰娜伸出的那只手臂——那是她身上唯一幸存于那场灾难的肢体，将它轻轻搭在她的胸前，双手覆住她的指关节。她还活着。甚至还有些部分我能认出来。当这个念头击中我时，我以为我会醒来，而我所做的一切都将毫无意义，以为她的身体会消失。但她还活着。虽然不多，但这终究是些什么。我并非宗教信仰者。在我看来，世间唯一神圣的东西便是泥土。它能让最失败的人开出玫瑰：在死亡中，我们获得意义。我凝视着这片狼藉。虽然我对神性毫不在意，但在面对死者时，我反而有更多的同情。尤其是当死者正是一个我刚有所成长的灵魂。

It wasn’t fair. 这不公平。

Being sad, however, wouldn’t rewrite the past to give us a platonic happily ever after, although I imagine if I got her necromantic situationship involved, that might change things. Part of me thought about it. Let’s be clear about that. Part of me did think about looking for Rowan, about demanding that he see if there was anything that could be done. Johanna had been nothing but kind to me, after all. The fact that she was weird and codependent about it was beside the point. Even in my worst moments, she had cared. 然而，悲伤并不能改写过去，给我们一个柏拉图式的幸福结局，尽管我猜想如果我让她卷入死灵恋中，情况可能会改变。我的一部分确实想过这件事。让我们明确这一点。我的一部分确实想过去找罗恩，去要求他看看是否有什么能做的。毕竟，约翰娜一直对我很好。她古怪且依赖性强这一点无关紧要。即使在最糟糕的时刻，她也关心我。

Pity she needed to die. Pity she needed to stay dead. Pity all that was as inevitable as what was coming next. 真可怜她需要死。真可怜她需要保持死亡状态。真可怜所有的一切都像即将到来的事情一样不可避免。

“Alessa?” “亚历莎？”

I turned to see a lithe young man at the door. Rowan was thin in the way most smokers eventually became, gristly and lineated with veins, his skin already like a piece of dehydrated leather. But there was an unconventional appeal to his Roman nose, his mobile lips, the eyes like flecked chips of lapis. His expression was affable, unbothered. You’d think he would look more troubled. Johanna was kind of his girlfriend. 我转过身，看到门口一个矫健的年轻人。罗恩瘦得像大多数吸烟者最终会变成的样子，皮肤干瘪，布满青筋，已经像一块脱水皮革。但他罗马式的鼻子、灵活的嘴唇，以及像青金石碎片般的眼睛，却有一种非传统的魅力。他的表情和蔼，毫不在意。你本以为是会显得更烦恼的。约翰娜是他的女朋友。

Then again, this was also Hellebore. But we’ll get to that. 再说，这也是黑刺李。但我们会讲到那的。

“Good morning,” I said. “I can explain.” “早上好，”我说。“我可以解释。”

“Is that so?” said Rowan, his gaze making a circuit across the mess, a single line indenting the space between his fluffy eyebrows. Mine felt matted with blood but it didn’t feel like it was appropriate to check. “I’d really like to hear it.” “是吗？”罗恩说，他的目光扫过那片狼藉，浓密的眉毛间划出一道细线。我的头发被血浸染得乱糟糟的，但我觉得检查不太合适。“我真的很想听听。”

“Yes, well.” I took a breath. A glob of something lukewarm traveled down the bridge of my nose. “Actually, that’s a lie. I can’t really explain it. Scratch that. I was asked not to explain it. So, that makes things… difficult.” “嗯，好吧。”我深吸一口气。一团温热的东西从我的鼻梁上滑落。“实际上，那是在撒谎。我无法解释清楚。 Scratch that. 我被要求不要解释。所以，这就让事情……变得复杂了。”

“More difficult than being caught committing homicide?” The lanky boy crossed the room to where I stood beside Johanna’s corpse, one of my hands still clasping hers. A smile crept up to his mouth, wary as a beaten animal. “比被当场发现犯谋杀罪还难？”那个瘦高的男孩穿过房间，走到我站在约翰娜尸体旁边的位置，一只手仍然握着她的手。一丝狡黠的笑容爬上他的嘴角，像一只被打败的动物一样警惕。

“Lots of judgment from someone who was just a fuckbuddy.” His sanctimoniousness drew an unexpected venom from me. “I thought you didn’t care about her.” “一个刚刚只是炮友的人，怎么会有这么多评判。”他的道貌岸然激起了我意想不到的毒舌。“我以为你不在乎她。”

“I cared about her as a person.” “我是把她当作一个人来关心。”

“If you did, you’d have left her alone.” Cruelty was like riding a bike: it became ingrained in you, became muscle memory. There was no losing the trick of it. You never forgot how to drive a knife in and twist. “She loved you, you know.” “如果你那样做，你早就把她一个人丢下了。” 残酷就像骑自行车：一旦养成习惯，就变成了肌肉记忆，无法摆脱。你永远忘不了如何将刀子捅进去并转动。“你知道她爱你。”

He flinched like I’d punched him. 他像被我打了似的缩了一下。

Good, I remember thinking, a tang of bloodlust slicking my tongue. 很好，我想，血腥味在我的舌头上蔓延。

“If you knew what I knew, you’d have treated her better. I take that back. If you knew what I knew, you’d have stayed the fuck away and left her alone.” I spat the last word. “You used her.” “如果你知道我所知道的事情，你会对她更好。我收回话。如果你知道我所知道的事情，你会离她远点，让她一个人待着。”我吐出最后一个词。“你利用了她。”

Rowan stopped about a foot from the steamer trunk in front of Johanna’s bed, his knee bumping into the verdigris lid, and tipped one hand at me, turning it palm up. He was the very image of good faith, earnest and smiling. He looked like I’d just anointed him with compliments; there was something almost coy in the way he peered at me through long black lashes. 罗恩在约翰娜床前的蒸汽行李箱前停了下来，膝盖撞在绿色的盖子上，他抬起一只手对我示意，手掌朝上。他看起来非常真诚，带着微笑。他看起来就像我刚用赞美之词为他涂油；他透过长长的黑睫毛看我时，带着一丝羞涩。

“Be that as it may,” he said. “That doesn’t change the fact you killed her.” “即便如此，”他说。“那并不能改变你杀了她的事实。”

“Well, I didn’t want to.” “呃，我本不想那样。”

It wasn’t a defense. I knew that. Neither was the shrug I offered up, my gaze falling again to Johanna’s remains. Even defiled thus, her golden hair was somehow unmistakable. Same with the perfect curve of her jaw, dislodged as it was from the rest of her skull. What surprised me though was how much it hurt to see her dead. 那不是辩解。我知道。我递出的耸肩动作也不是，我的目光再次落在了约翰娜的遗骸上。即便如此被亵渎，她的金发依然无法辨认。同样的，她完美的下颌曲线，虽然已经脱离了其余的头骨，依然清晰可见。但让我惊讶的是，看到她死去时，我有多么痛心。

“There is gunk coming down from the ceiling,” said Rowan after a minute of obtrusive silence. “天花板上有什么黏糊糊的东西正往下掉，”罗恩在尴尬的沉默持续一分钟之后说道。

I looked up. As it turned out, there was. 我抬头看。原来确实有。

“That wasn’t intentional.” “那不是故意的。”

“Alessa, just tell me what happened.” “Alessa，就告诉我发生了什么。”

The coppery, sweetly fecal smell of death was beginning to intensify. 死亡的铜锈味，带着甜腻的粪便气味，开始变得浓烈。

He reached out with a gloved hand, desperation pushing up against that smiling facade, the nonchalance faltering, cracking under the pressure of what I could assume to be grief. For a second, I was witness to the fatal loneliness at the core of that grinning, jocular, often inappropriate boy—to the child who must have spent his early life up to his ears in protective gear so as to prevent him from rampant manslaughter. They say that babies can die from touch starvation. I wondered what Rowan had had to kill to be standing here now, what he had had to give up, all to be too late. I wondered if some part of him had died at the sight of Johanna’s remains, knowing there laid butchered most likely the only woman who’d ever look at his deficiencies and still see him as enough. 他伸出戴着手套的手，绝望冲破了那副微笑的面具，那份从容不迫开始动摇，在悲伤的压力下裂开。有那么一瞬间，我目睹了那个总是咧嘴笑、爱开玩笑、常常不合时宜的男孩内心深处致命的孤独——那个童年时必须全身裹在防护装备里，才能防止他肆意造成无端杀戮的孩子。他们说婴儿会死于触觉饥饿。我猜想罗恩为了站在这里，到底杀了什么，又放弃了什么，却终究还是太迟了。我猜想他是否在看到约翰娜的遗骸时，已经死了某一部分，因为他知道那里躺着的，很可能是唯一一个会看到他的缺陷，却依然认为他足够好的女人。

“Please,” said Rowan. “请，”罗恩说。

Before I could say anything, another voice broke through the air. 在我还能说什么之前，另一个声音穿透了空气。

“What did you do?” “你做了什么？”

We turned in tandem to see a figure stumbling fawn-legged toward us, pausing at intervals to flinch at the charnel, the color bleeding from a face already arctic in its complexion. Most people would call her a beauty and they’d be right any other day. There and then, however, she was a car crash in slow motion, that long, drawn-out, honeyed second before an explosion. She was a corpse that hadn’t caught up to the fact that her heart had been dug out and eaten, dripping like a fruit. In her face, a kind of obstinate hope somehow. Like if she lived in this incredulous grief for a little longer, it’d grant Johanna a Schrödinger’s immortality: keep her not necessarily alive, but not dead either. 我们同时转过身，看见一个身影踉跄着朝我们走来，不时停下脚步，惊恐地瞥向那片炼狱，脸色本已苍白如冰，此刻血色正从她的脸上迅速褪去。大多数人会称她为美人，在其他任何一天，他们都会是对的。然而此刻，她却像是一场慢动作的车祸，那漫长而甜蜜的几秒钟，在爆炸之前。她像是一具尸体，还没来得及意识到自己的心脏已被挖出并吃掉，正滴滴答答地淌着血，如同熟透的水果。在她脸上，却有一种固执的希望。仿佛如果她能再在这难以置信的悲伤中多停留片刻，就能赋予约翰娜一种薛定谔式的永生：让她不一定活着，但也未必死了。

“What did you do?” Stefania screamed. “你做了什么？”斯特凡妮亚尖叫道。

A little to my surprise if not Rowan’s, she arrowed straight toward him, literally serrating as she did: every limb began to split into outcroppings of teeth, skin becoming stubbled with molars, speared through with expanding incisors. Her face bisected and then quartered, petaling, each flap lined like the inside of a lamprey’s mouth. When she screamed again, it was with a laryngeal configuration that had no business existing even here in the halls of Hellebore: it was a choir, a horror, a nightmare of sound. 让我感到惊讶的是，如果罗恩没有，她径直射向他，字面意义上锯齿般：每条肢体开始分裂成牙齿的突起，皮肤长满臼齿，被不断扩大的犬齿刺穿。她的脸被劈开然后分成四份，像花瓣一样绽放，每个瓣片都像鳗鱼嘴内侧一样布满牙齿。当她再次尖叫时，她的喉部结构根本不该存在于黑刺李大厅：那是一支合唱团，一种恐怖，一个声音的噩梦。

“You,” she said in all the voices those new mouths afforded her. Tongues waved from every joint. “You fucking bastard.” “你，”她用那些新嘴巴赋予她的所有声音说道。舌头在每一个关节处摇摆。“你该死的混蛋。”

Rowan threw his hands up, backing away, even though I was the one smeared with a frosting-thick coat of gore. “First of all: fuck you. Second: how dare you? The visual evidence alone, Stefania. It’s clear—” 罗恩举起双手，后退，尽管是我浑身沾满了厚厚的血污。“首先：去你的。其次：你怎么敢？仅仅是视觉证据，斯特凡妮。很清楚——”

Whatever else he might have said was swallowed by an obliterating white light. The incandescence lasted only for a second but it filled the room, burning away all features. Then it winked out and as our sight returned, we discovered collectively there was now a fourth member of our little tableau. 他可能还会说的其他话都被毁灭性的白光吞没。白炽光只持续了一秒钟，但它充满了整个房间，烧毁了所有特征。然后它眨眼般熄灭了，当我们的视线恢复时，我们共同发现我们的小场景中现在多了一个成员。

Standing before us was the headmaster herself, bonneted and in a cotton nightdress ornamented with smiling deer. Though the style was cartoonish, it did little to dull the absolute horror of the sight: ungulate faces were never meant to stretch that way. The headmistress blinked owlishly at us, her eyes magnified by the lenses of her horn-rimmed spectacles. I froze at the sight of her. I knew what was behind that doddering facade. 站在我们面前的正是校长本人，戴着无边帽，身穿一件绣着微笑鹿的棉质睡衣。尽管款式卡通，但这并未丝毫减弱这景象的绝对恐怖：有蹄类动物的脸庞本不该被拉扯成这样。校长用类似猫头鹰的眼神眨了眨眼，她的眼睛被她的角框眼镜放大了。看到她，我僵住了。我知道在那副老态龙钟的外表后面是什么。

“Children.” Her voice when she wasn’t orating was high and breathy, a bad idea away from being babyish, like a sorority girl courting the quarterback’s attention. It was particularly weird coming from someone who looked and acted the way the headmistress did: namely, old. “What are you doing?” “孩子们。”她演讲之外的嗓音又高又喘，离谱一点就幼稚得像在追求四分卫注意力的姐妹会女孩。从看起来和举止都像校长那样苍老的人嘴里说出，尤其奇怪。“你在做什么？”

“What,” said Stefania, devolving back to her usual shape, a process that involved more slurping noises than I would have preferred. “Headmaster?” “什么，”斯蒂凡妮亚说着，变回了她平常的样子，这个过程中比我希望的要发出更多吸溜声。“校长？”

“This is terrible behavior.” “这太不像话了。”

“They killed my friend,” exhaled Stefania, and the helplessness in her voice was worse than her rage, a note of keening under those panted words. “Headmistress, please—” “他们杀了我的朋友，”斯蒂凡妮亚叹了口气，她声音里的无助比愤怒更让人难受，喘息的词语下透着一丝哀嚎。“校长，求求你——”

“There is a soiree waiting for you,” continued the headmaster, putting undue emphasis on the word soiree, dragging out the vowels, turning them nasal, exaggeratedly French. “You should be dressing up. You should be putting on makeup.” Her eyes darted to Rowan. “Better clothes. Why aren’t you working to look delicious?” “有一个晚会等着你，”校长继续说道，过分强调“晚会”这个词，拉长元音，让它们变得鼻音，夸张地模仿着法国口音。“你应该打扮一下。你应该化个妆。”她的目光瞟向罗恩。“更好的衣服。你为什么不努力让自己看起来诱人呢？”

In movies, it is always clear when the villain slips up with a double entendre. The music score changes; the camera pans in on their faces. It is a narrative design, a conspiratorial glance at the audience: here is the signage marking the descent into mayhem and here too, the strategically positioned lighting, placed just so to ensure no one ignores the moment. But with the headmaster, it was clear the use of those words was deliberate. She did not speak them in error. This wasn’t Freudian. This was her telling us that she expected us to look pretty on a plate. The audacity left me speechless, but not Rowan. 在电影里，反派角色使用双关语时总会露出破绽。音乐变得紧张；镜头聚焦在他们脸上。这是一种叙事设计，一种对观众心照不宣的暗示：这是通向混乱的标志，而这里，也是精心布置的灯光，恰到好处地确保没有人会忽视这一刻。但面对校长，她使用这些词语显然是故意的。她并非口误。这不是弗洛伊德式的。这是她在告诉我们，她期待我们成为盘中的佳肴。这份胆大妄为让我无言以对，但罗恩却不是。

“I’m afraid I taste terrible,” he said, flapping his hands. “Like, absolutely rancid. Between all the smoking and drinking, it’d probably be awful. Just awful. Can I help with the drinks instead?” “我恐怕我吃起来很糟糕，”他说着挥了挥手，“简直糟透了。考虑到我抽烟喝酒的习惯，味道可能很糟糕。真的糟透了。我能帮忙倒酒吗？”

“You’re insane,” said Stefania. “I refuse to be part of this.” “你疯了，”斯蒂法妮亚说，“我拒绝参与这件事。”

The headmaster didn’t even look at her. Instead, she said sweetly, “In that case, I suggest you hang yourself.” 校长甚至没有看她。相反，她甜蜜地说：“那样的话，我建议你自杀。”

“You mean it,” I said after a drawn-out moment. “You’re actually planning to eat us.” “你的意思是，”我停顿了一下，“你真的打算把我们吃掉。”

“I said make yourself look delicious,” trilled the headmaster, twirling a mauve-veined hand at me. “You’re the one coming up with questionable conjecture.” “我说让你看起来美味，”校长兴奋地说，用一根带有淡紫色纹路的双手向我挥舞。“你才是那个提出可疑推测的人。”

But the look in her eyes said everything, as did her delicate smile. Rowan swallowed the rest of his rambling excuses, his jaws clenched so hard I heard the scrape of enamel as they ground together, and Stefania stared at the floor with a furious, indiscriminate hate. I studied the headmaster, wishing I had a rejoinder that didn’t make me sound petulant. My only consolation was that the epiphany of this impending cannibal feast had both Rowan and Stefania at least temporarily distracted from the ugly business of our dearly deceased mutual friend. 但她眼中的神色已说明一切，而她那温柔的微笑更是如此。罗恩咽下了他那些没完没了的借口，他的下颌咬得死紧，我甚至能听到珐琅相互摩擦的刮擦声，斯特凡妮则气冲冲地盯着地板，用不加区分的恨意。我打量着校长，希望自己能有一个回应，而不是显得幼稚。我唯一的慰藉是，这场迫在眉睫的食人盛宴让罗恩和斯特凡妮至少暂时分心，没有去理会我们那位不幸去世的共同朋友那丑陋的事情。

Her smile deepened. She knew as well as the three of us did that there wouldn’t be opting out of the situation. 她的笑容加深了。她和我们三个一样清楚，这种情况是无法逃避的。

“You can’t make us go,” said Rowan. “我们不能被逼着去，”罗恩说。

“Actually,” said the headmistress, voice losing its chirping lilt. She spoke the next words in what I’d come to think of as her real voice: smooth and bored, unsettlingly anodyne save when her amusement knifed through the surface like a fin moving through dark water. “I can.” “其实，”校长说，声音失去了欢快的调子。她接下来说的话，在我听来，才是她真正的声音：平稳而无聊，令人不安地平静，直到她的愉悦像鱼鳍划过黑暗的水面般刺破表面。“我可以。”

Before any of us could object, the world spun and, sudden as anything, we were in the gymnasium. Each and every one of us were in formal raiment, a mortarboard jauntily set at an angle on each of our heads. We were as pristine as if we’d spent the day in frenzied ablution: hair shining like it’d been oiled individually, faces beautiful. We looked like we were waiting backstage for our turn on the catwalk—like sacrifices, or saints waiting for the lions. 在我们任何人都能提出异议之前，世界旋转起来，转眼间我们就到了体育馆。我们每个人都穿着正式的服装，头上都俏皮地歪戴着方帽。我们像是在疯狂洗涤了一整天一样，干净得发亮：头发像被单独涂抹了油，脸庞美丽。我们看起来就像是在后台等待走上 T 台——像祭品，或是等待狮子的圣徒。

The air had an odd crystalline shine to it like it had been greased somehow. That or I was in the throes of a migraine. It was hard to be sure. I’d been plopped next to Gracelynn, who was sat between Sullivan and me, with Kevin on my opposite side. Bracketing us was a pair of twins I’d only seen occasionally but knew by reputation, the two notorious for the ease with which they procured reagents for whoever had the money to pay: they could get anything so long as what you wanted came from something with a pulse. A few familiar faces were past them to the right: Stefania, Minji, Eoan, and Adam, who slouched almost entirely out of his seat. 空气里有一种奇特的结晶般的光泽，仿佛被什么润滑过。要么是我正经历偏头痛发作。很难确定。我瘫坐在格蕾丝琳旁边，她坐在沙利文和我之间，凯文则在我对面。在我们两边的是一对我偶尔见过但早有耳闻的双胞胎，他们以轻易获取试剂而臭名昭著，只要有钱，他们就能弄到任何东西，只要那东西是有生命的。他们右边有几个熟悉的面孔：斯特凡妮亚、敏姬、伊奥恩，还有亚当，他几乎整个人都瘫出了座位。

“What is going on?” Kevin hissed to me. “发生了什么？”凯文对我嘶吼道。

“We have to go,” I said in lieu of an answer, standing. “我们得走了，”我站起身，没有回答。

The world stuttered. 世界仿佛停顿了一下。

I was back on the metal fold-out chair I’d been sitting on, like my muscles had changed their mind midway to rising. Except I hadn’t felt myself sit back down. Instead, it was more like the seconds had rewound, had flinched back from my decision like it was a hot stove. I tried again. This time, I felt it: reality slingshotting backward through linear time, not far enough to leave me discombobulated, but enough to have my ass on the cold, cheap steel. It hit me then that I was trapped. All my efforts, all those months spent trying to get out, and here I was with no place to go, a bunny with the hounds gathered all around. 我又回到了那把金属折叠椅上，仿佛我的肌肉在起身的过程中突然改变了主意。但我并没有感觉到自己坐回去。相反，那更像是时间倒流，像是从我的决定中弹回，就像触碰到了热炉子。我再次尝试。这次我感受到了：现实在线性时间里急速倒退，虽然不足以让我感到头晕目眩，但足以让我坐在冰冷的廉价钢铁上。那一刻，我意识到自己被困住了。我所有的努力，所有那些试图逃出去的月份，而我却在这里无处可去，像一只被猎犬包围的兔子。

The doors of the gymnasium opened, allowing our headmaster entry. She drifted down the aisle, splitting the crowd of so-called graduates, resplendent in a fawn-colored suit, the majesty of which was spoiled by the fact that her white hair was still in curlers. A clipboard was tucked in the crook of her left arm. She checked something off as she passed each student, her smile as it always was: slightly too wide for her face. 体育馆的大门打开，让我们的校长得以进入。她缓缓沿着走廊走来，将那些所谓的毕业生人群分开，身穿一件栗色套装，套装的庄严被她那仍在卷发器里的白发破坏了。她的左手肘弯里夹着一块记事板。她经过每个学生时，都会在记事板上划掉什么，她的笑容一如既往：对她来说稍微太宽了。

When she finally reached our row, she only said, with an effervescent giggle: 当她终于走到我们这一排时，她只是带着兴奋的咯咯声说：

“Ah. It’s time for a speech by the valedictorian!” “啊。毕业典礼致辞时间到了！”

Sullivan took her hand when she offered it. I couldn’t help the “No, stop!” that wrestled out of my mouth. I groped for Sullivan’s arm, the motion entirely reflexive. He and I, we weren’t close, but some animal instinct roared past all my other sensibilities. I knew unequivocally that if he went with her, he would be dead. 当她伸出手时，沙利文握住了她的手。我忍不住“不，停下！”从嘴里挣脱出来。我摸索着沙利文的胳膊，这个动作完全是本能的。我和他，我们并不亲密，但某种动物本能压过了我所有的其他感觉。我明确地知道，如果他跟她去，他会死。

“Sullivan—” “沙利文—”

He unbraided my fingers from his wrist, a suicidal gentleness in his eyes as he said, “It’s okay.” His eyes shifting to Delilah—his light, his lamb, his death. She wouldn’t meet his gaze, stared instead into her palms, more statue than girl. 他轻轻解开我攥住他手腕的手指，眼中带着一种自杀般的温柔，说：“没关系。”他的目光转向黛莉拉——他的光，他的羔羊，他的死亡。她没有与他对视，而是盯着自己的手掌，更像一座雕像而非一个女孩。

It definitely wasn’t. 绝对不是。