Page 36 of Tempest

My brows jump at his presumption. “What does any of what we went through or how we handled it have to do with your occult lectures?”

Morgan shrugs, unperturbed by my defensiveness. He leans forward to light a candle on his desk. Enough light filters through the two casement windows behind him, but with so much dark wood and scarlet fabrics like the carpet and curtains, maybe a single candle is needed.

“I’ve called you in here to make sure you’re comfortable with the materials we’ll be covering. You appeared uneasy at the mention of our first topic, and I wondered if I’d made a mistake allowing you in the class.”

“I’m fine.” Even if I’m not, I have the overwhelming urge to lie to him that I am. I’m so tired of being treated like I’ll break any second. “It was unsettling at first. I’m happy to put in the work, though. I want to be in your class.”

“That’s wonderful to hear.” He smiles again. “Do you believe your friend haunts you? The one who died in the accident?”

Again, with his presumptuousness. I at last move away from the door, but it’s to unlatch it and get out of here. “If that’s all you need, I’ll be leaving now.”

“By all means,” he says behind me. “I look forward to reading your paper.”

I don’t respond. Instead, I burst into the darkened hallway, my footsteps silenced by the thudding of my heart.

---