His words to me said yes, but his actions … my belly flutters at the remembrance.
Flutters then sinks as I force the facts forward. Tempest shouldn’t matter. Only proving I’m not some weak, fragile princess do.
“He’s always had a misplaced sense of justice. One thing is for certain, though. He always needs someone to blame,” Clover says as we stroll down the hallway.
As fast as campus becomes crowded in the mornings, it turns deserted after the last class of the day. Strange, considering there’s nowhere else for students to go in the middle of the mountains.
Clover stops me with a gentle hand on my arm. “It’s not your fault, Ardyn. Whatever my brother says, he doesn’t mean it. Tempest is just angry he wasn’t there to help us. That he—”
“—sent the car to get us,” I finish for her. “If he wants to blame someone, it should be himself for sending that particular car to pick us up. We wouldn’t have been on the road at that exact moment in time.”
How I wish it could be Tempest I’m confronting and not Clover. Next time I see him, I’ll tell him this. I will.
“Don’t tell Tempest that,” Clover responds, reading my mind. For the first time, I notice how pale her cheeks have become. “It’ll only make him want to come after you.”
I feign indifference. My bones thrum at the thought. “I’m not afraid of him.”
“You should be. I am.”
“Miss Kaine?”
Both our heads turn.
Professor Morgan stands at the door to his office, farther down the hallway and where the sunlight can’t quite hit through the casement windows. His lenses shine but illuminate nothing.
“Could I see you for a moment?”
“Um. Sure.” It doesn’t matter how much time I spent in an institution. I’ll always hate being singled out by an authority figure.
“You bitch,” Clover teases, a smile crossing her face. “Put in a good word for me.” She nudges me forward. “I’ll see you in time to get ready for the party.”
It’s all the impetus I need to be reminded of the kick-off party held at the all-boys dorm, Meath Row, or what our dorm calls Meat Row. It also serves as enlightenment—this is why the campus is so deserted. Everyone’s getting ready in their costumes.
Enough silence passes between the three of us that it’s grown uncomfortable. I clear my throat. “Okay, yeah. See you soon.”
Clover nods, then tosses her hair, fluttering a wave at Professor Morgan. “Bye, Professor!”
“Goodbye, Miss Callahan,” he answers wryly, then beckons me over. “In my office, please.”
He turns and is seated on the other side of his desk by the time I come in and shut his paneled double doors, the old wood soft under my hands.
I turn toward him and nearly lose my breath.
I’m faced with a skull.
Morgan follows my line of sight at the shelving above his head. “Ah, yes. The skull of Sarah Anderton always scares the bejesus out of my students, even the ones most atheist.” He smiles. “Please sit. I promise, simply because she is surrounded by occult materials doesn’t mean she’ll materialize in front of us.”
I feel my throat bob. Before I can even think to stop myself—”Clover would die to see that.”
“Not you, I take it?” Morgan’s handsome smile slowly wilts. “I apologize. That was insensitive of me. After what you’ve been through, I doubt jokes at your expense are much appreciated.”
I stare at him. When I don’t peel my back off the door, Morgan adds, “I’m well aware of your history, Miss Kaine. In fact, I approved your late entry into my class due to it. Not to be confused with favoritism, of course. You must pull your weight like all the others, but I thought you might be a special case, what with your background.”
I blink. “Clover Callahan went through the same thing I did. Did you give her a preferential pass, too?”
Morgan cocks his head, surprised, maybe, at how strong my voice sounds while my body still trembles. I don’t like the dark, and I don’t like being alone with pieces of a real skeleton. So sue me.
“Clover seems to have adjusted after your unfortunate accident slightly better than you. Or denied it better.”