Page 35 of Artifice
He glanced at her, something flickering in his gaze before he looked away. “If you hear more about that, I’d love to know.”
“Of course.” Olive nodded. “I suppose that information won’t do anything to sway your suggestions for how the school can improve.”
“Runaways?” He stared at her. “I don’t know why it would. That’s more of a discipline issue.”
“I guess the Quiet Room isn’t working as they expected after all.”
“I guess not.”
They stared at each other a minute.
Finally, Olive said, “I’d love to hear about what you do as a consultant sometime. I’m always looking for ways to verify the places where I donate money.”
“As you should.”
“You could be a good resource.” She studied his expression.
“I suppose I could. Maybe we’ll get the chance to talk about that sometime.” He glanced at his watch. “But for now, I need to run. Talk more later.”
She watched him leave.
There was definitely more to his story than he was letting on.
But what?
CHAPTER 19
Olive climbed in her car, knowing she had some time on her hands until she met Principal Denarau for dinner.
She didn’t want to go back to the bed-and-breakfast yet. And though she wanted to talk to Stephanie at The Salty Kettle again, she didn’t want to eat there twice so close together.
Instead, she headed up the road to a pull-off she’d seen earlier.
Olive drew her car to a stop at the scenic overlook, cutting the engine but making no move to exit the vehicle. Through the windshield, the vast panorama of Maine’s rugged coastline unfolded before her in muted tones of gray and blue.
The Atlantic stretched toward the horizon, its surface rippled and darkened by the approaching storm. Closer to shore, whitecaps broke against jagged black rocks.
Tendrils of mist clung to the distant mountains that rose in front of her, their peaks entirely obscured by low-hanging clouds that seemed to breathe, expanding and contracting as they rolled across the landscape.
The air between sea and sky had a peculiar quality—not quite rain, not quite fog—that softened all edges and blurred the boundary between water and air. Occasional breaks in thecloud cover allowed weak sunlight to pierce through, creating brief, luminous patches on the water’s surface that gleamed like scattered silver coins before being swallowed again by shadows.
The entire scene possessed a melancholy beauty that resonated with Olive’s current state of mind—a stark, elemental landscape where secrets could be buried deep but nothing truly disappeared.
Why did she have a feeling those cliffs had something to do with these students’ disappearances? She didn’t know what that might be. But she knew she feared for their safety.
Not just the ones who’d disappeared. But all the students still at the school as well.
Something didn’t feel right.
Had none of the parents who’d sent their kids to Lighthouse Harbor noticed how off something felt here? Or perhaps they’d been so desperate to get help for their children that they had chosen to ignore any red flags.
Leaning back in her seat, Olive pulled out her phone and glanced at the screen, remembering her promise to call Jason. She’d be at dinner tonight with Principal Denarau so that wouldn’t be a good time.
Jason was probably still working, but maybe he could talk now.
Olive knew he wouldn’t answer if he was too busy.
She dialed his number and waited.
