Page 89 of Make Me Scream

“Yes, please.” I didn’t get a ton of sleep. A little caffeine couldn’t hurt. The tea steams as it flows from the pot. I wait for it to cool, inhaling its faint lavender aroma.

“Did Lane give you his version?” he asks, pouring my cup.

“No. I was going to go see him when I got your e-mail.”

Lane would have warned me not to tell Mundell anything.

“Right,” Mundell says, nodding. “Before we start, I want you to understand that I do approach your situation with sympathy. I know we’ve had our differences artistically, and that’s caused friction. I don’t expect that to change overnight, but I do want it to change. You’re my student, Ms. Carpenter. I chose you over thousands of other applicants because I believe in you. Your success or lack thereof will reflect back on me, so it’s in my interests to see you thrive.”

“Okay.”

I try not to let my surprise show. Is this some kind of good cop routine? Am I supposed to trust him after everything he’s done? How is that not pure insanity?

“By that same token,” Mundell continues, “your fate is tied to the reputation of this academy. If we lose prestige due to a scandal, it will affect the trajectory of your career.”

“Yours too.”

He smiles, but without warmth.

“Yes, but I’ll be fine. I’m a wealthy man. I’d like to make sure you have every opportunity to achieve greatness, and that means resolving this conflict to our mutual satisfaction.”

“Right.”

I doubt that’s really possible, unless Mundell is prepared to give Lane his job back and to promise, in writing, that my scholarship is secure and that he won’t interfere with my pursuit of whatever art I choose.

“It shames me that you’ve been put into this situation at all, Ms. Carpenter.”

Been put?

He holds out a hand before I can object.

“Yes, I know. You’re an adult and you can make your own decisions, but ultimately it’s Lane’s fault for pursuing you in an inappropriate manner. He should know better. Now, I believe that his feelings for you are genuine, and vice versa. Unfortunately, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a teacher and you’re a student. You acted responsibly in avoiding his classes, considering your artistic differences, but he opted to pursue you anyway.”

If I’m following Mundell fully, it sounds as though he still doesn’t know that Lane is Alistair Rat. That’s good. Whatever else happens, that secret needs to stay safe.

“Respectfully, I’m not really his student. As long as I don’t take his classes, there’s no conflict of interest,” I argue.

“That’s not the point. It’s behavior unbecoming of his position. I can’t allow that to go unpunished, even if there was no specific conflict. Unfortunately, thanks to Lane, there is one. His actions last night have forced my hand just as much as his conduct with you.”

“What’s that mean?” I ask, staring at his bandaged nose.

Mundell sighs, sipping his tea.

“Our discussion last night became heated. When informed I was terminating his contract, he became irate, ultimately escalating into a physical altercation. It would have continued had I not threatened to call the police.”

Translation: Lane wanted to kick your ass but you’re a spineless fucking coward.

“Did you?”

A quick hum rises from my purse; someone’s texting. Possibly Joel, but probably Lane wondering where I am. It’ll have to wait.

“Thankfully, no,” says Mundell. “The threat restored some sense in Lane, and he left immediately. Don’t get me wrong, Ms. Carpenter: he deserved to be charged, but I’m trying to avoid drawing negative attention to the academy.”

“Of course.”

It’s one thing for me to pick up a fine on the subway; no one will care, or even notice. But if a teacher caught an assault charge and the media found out… I wouldn’t put it past Lane to leak it himself, if just to hurt Mundell.

“Lane recognized he wasn’t going to change my mind with physical intimidation, so he made a few threats of his own. Defamation, mostly — trotting out baseless allegations against me in an attempt to assassinate my character and scandalize the entire academy.”

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