Page 13 of Feral

“Uh…it’s kind of a joke between us,” Peter answered.

“Oh, I see. Well in that case, continue.”

I turned back to my notebook when I realized that the hands on my desk clock were at the same locations as the last time I looked. Upon closer inspection, it was apparent that the clock had stopped. My stomach dropped as I dug my phone out of my purse. We didn’t get the best reception down here and when I was working on an artifact I tended to turn it on silent anyway. Nothing worse than being at the cusp of a breakthrough and someone’s post on Facebook interrupting the train of thought.

“Oh no!” I dropped my phone on my desk and jumped up.

“What’s wrong?” Reggie asked.

“I missed my meeting with the dean! Where are my shoes?”

One of them floated in the air, held aloft by Peter, and the other was on one of my book shelves for some reason.

“Thank you,” I said to the poltergeist. “Reggie, store these three in a box with a shallow layer of solution. I’m not sure the best place for them yet.”

He nodded and got to work on the container as I tore my hair free from the now messy pony tail and attempted to get the tangles out with my fingers. Maybe the dean would understand if I told him that my job with the museum had run late.

Of course, it’s supposed to be a part time position in the archival department...

When I got to the main floor, I ignored the stares of the other agents as I ran past the offices and conference room. It was a half hour walk to the Office of the Dean, and I was already an hour late so I’d have to take a cab if I didn’t want it to be even worse than it already was. The cab was mercifully quick and the traffic not as clogged as usual around the university. I’m sure I tipped him far too much when I shoved some money at the cabbie and barreled out. But instead of darting up the stairs, I collided with my uncle George as he descended the steps.

“Daphne, there you are,” he huffed.

Uncle George taught in a different department than I, but he was great friends with the dean. Even though he’d put in a word for me, and that’s why the dean had relented and given me a chance, I’d more than proven that I deserved that position.

I gave him a shaky smile.

“I know I’m late, I was researching a new artifact that came in.”

“That’s no excuse for blowing off your meeting.”

“I just told you I didn’t blow it off, I got caught up. But I was heading there now. Would you like to join me?”

Uncle George shook his head.

“Daphne, you really do live up to your nickname.”

My mouth pressed into a thin line as a sharp pang shot through me at his words.

Daft-ne was the nickname he was referring to, courtesy of his oldest son when we were children. It had caught on quickly among the cousins and even a few of the aunts and uncles. The few times I’d tried to tell them it wasn’t a kind nickname the reaction was always the same.

“Really Daft-ne, it’s just all in good fun. You need to lighten up.”

I’d finally just decided to grit my teeth and try to ignore it. But Uncle George throwing it out there now, when I’d worked so hard the last two years to prove myself the opposite, hurt more than I could say.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I snapped, “but I don’t want to keep the dean waiting so if you’ll excuse me...”

“He won’t be there.”

His words stopped me mid step.

“He, Professor Elliot and I already had the meeting.”

“I don’t understand, how could that be? It was regardingmyclass.”

“Yourclass?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “Is that…oh now, you didn’t think that you were going to keep it, did you?”

Heat rushed to my pale cheeks and I fought back the impulse to panic. A terrible thought was starting to blossom in my mind but I didn’t want to face it. There was no way that all my hard work was for nothing, that I could’ve been overlookedagainbecause of my age and gender. Right?

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