Page 39 of Symphony of Salvation

Over the course of one week, I’d witnessed a blizzard, rain, sleet, and a deep freeze that had turned the campus into a frosty kingdom. New snow fell from a white sky as we walked. It had to be fifteen or twenty below. Even the winter birds were silent.

Ice-coated tree branches creaked and groaned in the wind. The crisp air stung my nostrils and burned my cheeks. I hugged my wool coat tighter around my middle and watched my breath crystalize with every exhale. “Is it always so cold here in December?”

“No. It’s a mixed bag. Sometimes, we don’t see snow until January. Other times, we’re buried before Christmas. Sometimes it’s eighteen degrees, and there are days like this where you swear the world has tipped on its axis and we’ve become the new Arctic.”

I chuckled. “I suppose it’s similar in Chicago. I didn’t seem to notice it as much there.”

“Were you in the heart of the city?”

“Yes. I have a condo near the Symphony Center.”

“That’s why. It always feels colder in the country. More room for the wind to whip around. Farther to go between destinations.” Spoken as we arrived at a new building.

Niles held the door. “After you.”

Tilting my head, I sized up the exterior of the century-old structure. It was gothic in appearance with its heavy stonework, huge windows, pointed arches, rib-vaults, and flying buttresses. I’d noted the various buildings and had paid half attention when given a preliminary tour of the premises, but I couldn’tremember what each one represented. Knowing Constance would be residing with me for the time being, it hadn’t mattered.

“What is this place?”

“Recreation hall and main library. It underwent extensive restoration over the past two years. It was fully reopened again in September.”

Like the main building, the prolific recreation hall and its architecture mesmerized me. Every part showed an elaborateness not seen in modern structures. Our footfalls echoed in the vast hallway as Niles guided us along. He pointed out several entrances to the library area and explained Timber Creek’s policies about student free time.

“I assume, since Constance hasn’t technically taken up residence in the dorms, that you skipped the portion of the tour where our supervision guidelines were broken down?”

“I was given a brochure.”

“Did you read it?”

“Not yet. It wasn’t relevant.”

“It is relevant unless you want to spend all your free time shadowing your daughter.”

I didn’t want that. The point of putting her in school was to give myself freedom. I wanted her to make friends like a normal teenage girl. It was the hormonal element that concerned me.

“Unless students go home on Fridays—which is permitted, but they must be signed out by a custodial parent—then they have all kinds of options for free time here on campus. We have several vast media rooms.”

Niles stopped outside an oversized, intricately carved wooden door. Voices sounded from within. Hinges creaked as he pushed it open and let me see inside. “Old building, modern technology.” He chuckled. “Computer access, multiple large screen TVs—headphones are available because otherwise itwould get noisy. We also have scheduled movie nights with popcorn and junk food, sometimes pizza.”

Niles pointed to a back corner. “Two of the TVs are reserved for the gaming systems. We have everything. Nintendo Wii, Xbox, N64, Atari—”

“No kidding.”

“Yep. We rely a lot on donations. Those shelves with the bins? They’re full of games.”

Six teens occupied two couches, controllers in hand, zombie-like stares glued to the screens. A shot of envy rippled through my veins. As a teenager, I would have loved that kind of freedom.

“Over there”—Niles indicated a cozy collection of beanbag chairs and other plush furniture—“you’ll see a lounge area.” He waved at a woman who appeared to be in her midtwenties. “That’s Olanna. She’s one of the dorm supervisors but does a rotation here as well. The media rooms are open until ten throughout the week and midnights on Fridays and Saturdays.”

“Always supervised?”

“Always.”

Niles took me farther down the hall to a less-defined lounge. “This is a quieter space where the kids can hang out, do homework, chat, and play board games. Whatever they’d like. If they want to get rowdy, the gym is open until eight every night of the week, or they can go outside.”

I glanced about, noting every student while seeking Constance or Cory, but they weren’t there. I was beginning to doubt Niles’s assurance. I didn’t need a tour or a lesson about parenting. I needed to know where my fourteen-year-old daughter had gone with her auburn-haired suitor.

“You’ll notice all the rooms in the recreation hall are open to everyone. The dormitories are restricted to thesame sex.” He added air quotes, wearing a less-than-impressed expression.Before I could query something that sounded entirely appropriate to my parental ear, he went on.

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