Page 32 of See Me After Class

One, two, three, four... On the fourth count, thunder rumbled, a deep, resonant sound echoing through the valley. The scent of rain-soaked earth rose from the garden, filling the night air.

I stayed put, hidden behind the desk, my body taut with anticipation. Caution was key, even if it turned out to be nothing.

Another flash of lightning, this time with five distinct prongs, reflected off the polished window panes to my right. The brief illumination revealed a tall, imposing figure standing at the doorway.

The figure spoke in a deep, serious tone.

"Hello, Desdemona," came the voice. "Come on out, please. I know you're there."

Panic surged within me. I weighed my options quickly. I could remain silent, hidden behind the desk, hoping to go unnoticed. Or I could emerge and face John Galbraith head-on. It wasn't the safest choice, but I had never shied away from a challenge.

With resolve, I pushed myself up from my crouched position and stood, facing Galbraith. He observed me in silence for a brief moment.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, he switched on the light. The room was bathed in a soft, yellow glow, almost mimicking the warmth of a lit fireplace.

"And what can I do for you?" Galbraith asked, his tone feigning cordiality.

His expression betrayed his true feelings, though. A deep frown creased his forehead, signaling his anger. I couldn't blame him. I'd be furious too if our roles were reversed.

I said nothing. It didn't feel safe to provoke him any further.

Galbraith advanced further into the room, his eyes sweeping over me in a scathing appraisal. His look was so withering it could have seared my skin.

I simply held my ground, head high, relying on silence as my armor. In confrontations like these, words often betrayed more than they concealed.

"Sit down," he commanded, nodding curtly toward the chair in front of his desk. After a brief pause, I moved around the desk, swiveled the chair to face him, and seated myself.

Galbraith stood looming over me, his expression a study in restrained fury. The taut muscles in his forearms betrayed the effort it took to maintain his composure.

"Explain yourself," he demanded sharply.

I remained silent. Both of us were well aware that I had no plausible justification for my actions. But that didn't mean I was about to crumble under his scrutiny.

"What were you searching for?" His gaze darted to the pile of papers on his desk. "Who sent you?"

I could almost hear the unspoken accusations. In his mind, I couldn't possibly have a personal interest in these documents. To him, I must be a pawn for some rival faction or corporate spy.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, barely. His face grew darker, hands shoving into his pockets.

"I should call the police," he threatened, a prospect I dreaded. My hands tensed on the chair arms, preparing to act.

As he stepped closer, I tensed, fighting the instinct to recoil.

"Why are you here, Desdemona?"

In a flash, I sprang from the chair and bolted toward the door.

It was supposed to be simple. The wing was typically deserted after ten at night, granting me ample time to search his office unencumbered.

But Galbraith had somehow anticipated my intrusion. Not only had he detected the breach, but he had also identified me, despite the cover of darkness and my position behind the desk. As I raced for the exit, a realization dawned on me. I had gravely underestimated Galbraith. The element of surprise was mine, yet he was swift in his response, his reflexes sharp.

I was almost free, darting around him in a wide arc toward the door, when Galbraith spun around with a swiftness unexpected for his size and snatched at my arm, yanking me back.

His grip was firm on my arm, his fingers pressing into the tender skin just above my elbow. Reacting instinctively, I aimed a sharp kick backward at his knee, hoping to throw him off balance. He skillfully dodged it, wrapping his other arm around my shoulders from behind.

Galbraith's body was a solid barrier against my back as he leaned in, his voice a low rumble of controlled anger in my ear.

"I don't want to hurt you," he growled, "but I will if you make me."

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