Page 175 of Meet Me at the Metro

I stride to Harvey’s bedside to hug him before I leave. When I pull away from our embrace, he’s looking at me with a bright, knowing smile. “You’re going to talk to Kimberley, aren’t you?”

I puff out a heavy gust of breath. “Yep.”

The train station is busy this evening, bustling with hurried bodies just getting off work. Hectic chatter fills the air as I quickly slip onto a soon-to-be-departing train heading toward the direction of campus.

I only hoped Kimberley would still be there, working in her office. If not, I’d be rerouting this trip to my childhood home, which I prayed would not end up being in the cards for me tonight.

The thought has me pulling out my phone to text Nora, who I’d assume is still staked out at Connor’s rehearsing lines.

Heading to campus. You still with Conn-twat?

I grab the handrail above me as the train rushes down the track. I lift my head and watch as the platform outside fades to a blur, but the abrupt buzz of my phone has me glancing down again. I’m surprised to see how quickly Nora’s responded.

Where to? I need to talk to you.

Something about her text has my gut twisting. I never much appreciated that statement and all the foreboding implications it could apply. I was already on edge. Reading her message felt like stepping toward a ledge overlooking a valley of total unease. I didn’t like it one bit, but I forced myself to breathe—to stay composed.

Administration’s office.

My pathetic eyes don’t stray from the thread of messages between us until the train pulls to its next stop. A wave of bodies moves toward the doors as they open, releasing a horde of passengers as it welcomes new ones. It’s when the doors close and the train starts moving again that I feel the irrefutable urge to send another text.

What’s up? Are you okay?

Seconds turned to minutes without a response. I’m chewing the inside of my lip when the train halts to the next platform. The second the doors open, I’m rushing out of them, but the hot, dry air of the station does nothing to quell the heat building along my chest and neck.

I need to chill.

Nora is fine. She’s with Connor. She’s safe. She just needs to talk to me about something. I’m sure it’s not a big deal...

I happily welcome the chill February air into my lungs as I step out onto the city street. It’s just as crowded as the tube, but I hurry along the congested sidewalk, refusing to slow my pace. I know that if I stop for even just a moment, I’ll consider changing my mind about paying a visit to my stepmum.

The tall spires of school come into view ahead, and as they do, my phone dings with a new text. I pull it from my back pocket to read themessage, but as I do, a passing pedestrian jolts my arm, and my phone tumbles onto the concrete.

“Fuck me,” I hiss, scrambling for it as it skids along the pavement.

It’s lost within a maze of quickly moving feet for several moments, but I eventually find it and fetch it off the ground.

I’m fuming as I inspect the damage that’s been done—severely cracked glass and a white malfunctioning screen. My phone is ruined to the point of no return, and I can’t even read Nora’s last message.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit...”

I don’t let the mishap falter my steps. I continue towardGildenhillas planned. Harvey told me to focus on what I could control, so I stick to the task at hand and make a mental note to call Nora as soon as I reach the school and find a phone.

However, I’m still a little pissed off even as I reach the central courtyard of campus.

Only a few students remain on site as the setting sun finally disappears along the horizon beyond. I’m only meters away from the administration office when I see a silhouette approaching the building from the side. I halt in my tracks, squinting to discern the moving figure beyond the shadows of the approaching night. I can make it out as it passes beneath the dim orange glow of the lampposts planted along the sidewalk.

It’s a hooded man, and his startling familiarity has my pulse skipping a beat. When he glances over and gives me a glimpse of the face beneath his dark hood, I realize who it is.

It’s John.

The revelation has my adrenaline pumping, and pure, enraged impulse has my legs moving after him as he slips through the main doors of the administration’s building. When they click shut behind him, I start into a sprint.

I’m not letting him disappear again. This fucker is going to pay for everything he’s done, and I can’t wait to be the one turning his pathetic arse into the police.

I stealthily slip into the building. The office lights inside have grown dim, only illuminated by a single light somewhere distant. I use thedarkness to my advantage as I silently move through the space, weaving through the dated chairs of the lobby.

Where the hell did he go?

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