Chapter 24

"You can go in now, Ms Hale," the secretary said.

I got up from the hard chair in Professor Killian's office, kneading the hem of my red button-down. I'd read somewhere that wearing red makes you appear more friendly and warm.

Here goes nothing.

Inside, the man with the white beard sat behind a mahogany desk, his eyebrows pinched in a frown.

Uh-oh.

"Sit down, please," he said.

I complied.

Professor Killian examined me critically, letting his eyes rove over the plaster on my forehead, before clasping his hands under his chin. "I'm very sorry to have to ask you to come into my office, Ms Hale. However, this is a serious issue. Someone saw you being involved in a fight and reported you. And no, I can't tell you who it was. Knowing you, I'm confident that you had nothing to do with starting this fight." He paused, shaking his head in sympathy. "It rather looks like you got the worse end of the stick. But now, I have an official inquiry lying on my desk, and I have no choice but to investigate."

My eyes had grown larger with every word. "Someone I didn't even know came right up to me and beat the crap out of me. Surely, this misunderstanding should be easy to clear up?"

Killian sighed. "It should be. I'll make some inquiries with the police, get the official report."

"Then why do you look so dejected?" I found the courage to ask.

"Because I know people, Ms Hale. Matters like these tend to become public knowledge far quicker than anyone likes, and stories get warped and re-told and, in the end, rarely resemble any of the factual circumstances."

"You think the students might think I wasn't just an innocent victim?"

"It's not the students I'm concerned about. It's the parents. There only needs to be one single person claiming that you have a tendency to get involved in fights, and there will be pandemonium. That's just how parents are."

I ran a hand through my hair, not liking what he was saying in the slightest. I'd hoped that I would only need to explain that I was just a victim, and the matter could be put to rest. That it might not even matter was not something I was prepared for.

"So what happens now?" I asked.

"Since it's an official inquiry, I'll have to put you on suspension." When he saw my face, he hurried to say, "Only until I've gathered all the facts and have solid proof that I can put into the report."

"I see." I swallowed around the lump in my throat. I didn't even want to think about Harry right now. Had I let him down?

"Ms Hale," Killian stated gently, "I know it's not fair, and I'm really sorry this happened to you, but I promise that we'll get to the bottom of this. Ideally the person who reported you would just rescind their complaint, but for a lack of that, I'm sure we can sort this out. It just might take a little longer."

"What about my students?"

"Someone else will fill in for you while you're away."

Outside, I felt like a kid abandoned at a carnival: out of sorts, vulnerable and sad. Just very sad. Placing my hands on the hood of my car, I absently noted that it could use another washing. Vinnie would scold me for neglecting the thing that faithfully got me from one place to another. I wondered if he would have any idea who might have reported me.

"Ms Hale?" The voice was soft, and when I lifted my face, Lacie was standing a few feet away. She winced. "Holy shit. What happened to your face?"

I sighed deeply. Would it even make a difference now if I told her? Without knowing who'd reported me and why, the chances of keeping a lid on this were slim to none. Dejectedly, I leaned against the jeep. "Someone hit me in the face. The crazy ex of a friend."

The redhead"s eyes narrowed. "I hope you pressed charges against the asshole."

"I did, but it's not gonna help me in the end."

"What do you mean?"

I sighed again. Why was I even telling her this? She'd been a splinter in my palm all semester. But now, the only things I saw on her face were indignation and sympathy. "Someone reported me for getting into a fight. I just got suspended."

"You're joking. They can't suspend you for getting hit in the face by some asshole. That's nuts! What kind of message would that send?"

A weary laugh escaped me. "Well, if this gets out, there might be enough people who won't care about the exact circumstances."

"Because they're ignorant and have never been in this situation themselves." Her voice hardened. "I can't believe this. Who even told the school about it?"

"I have no idea."

She pursed her stark red lips. "I'll find out."

My head whipped to her. "What? No, you really shouldn't get involved. I wasn't even supposed to tell you any of this."

"I don't care. Bashing on people for being a victim is wrong." The student fixed me with a stare. "I hope your friend's ex goes to jail for this. And I hope you're okay. Stuff like this messes up more than just the face, so I hope you know it's not your fault."

I stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. She looked like someone who knew what they were talking about. Someone with experience in this ugly department. Had I maybe been too quick to judge her character? Was her tendency to use people a way for her to protect herself, maybe?

"Anyway, I'll be going now." She turned to leave.

"Wait, Lacie. You really shouldn't get involved in this. I mean it. Just let the dean take care of it."

"It's gonna take forever, so no thank you." She snorted. "Some troublemaker is running around and spouting bullshit. I'm not gonna wait him out. I know people. I'll figure it out." And there was nothing of her usual arrogance, flightiness, or innuendo-laden demeanour when she strode determinedly toward the entrance of the school.

What did you just do?

Well, could it really get any worse?

It can always get worse, Hale. Have you learned nothing? He didn't fire you, at least.

It was only a small consolation, but right now it was the only thing I could cling to. Or was it?

I got on the road, still not sure what to think about my encounter with Lacie. Once I parked the jeep behind the office, my right hand reached into my pocket. Gazing at the phone for a moment, I tried not to think too much as I scrolled through the contacts until I arrived at the name I wanted. With the touch of my thumb, the connection built.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Click.

"Hey, stranger," a familiar raspy tenor said.

My lips involuntarily drew into a smile, and I felt myself relax for the first time today. "Well, technically we're at least loose acquaintances. You've seen me fall out of a tree, I've bought you a drink, and we've been to each other's houses."

Amusement shone through when she said, "Oh? So, you kiss all your loose acquaintances?"

"Only the pretty ones."

She gave a deep, rumbling laugh. "Well, you should have told me that I'm competing with so many others. You know I hate to be found lacking."

"I think you're severely overstating the number of my acquaintances."

"If you say so." She laughed again but was interrupted by the sound of a doorbell. "Hang on a sec."

I could hear the tap, tap of footsteps, and then a door opening before low voices rang out, muffled as if she'd put her hand over the receiver. I only caught a few snippets of the conversation, but they made me straighten.

"No, Irene … No, I don't have time right now … Who even told you … This isn't the point. No … Okay, yeah … I said I get it … Alright, yes … See you later."

There was the click of the door falling closed before Emmanuelle came back on. "Hey, sorry about that. Some people really have the worst timing."

"No problem," I said but couldn't keep myself from wondering who she'd been speaking to. The way Emmanuelle had sounded, it kind of felt like Irene was, well, someone she knew very well. Did I have the right to ask?

Just be cool about it.

"I didn't know you had friends in New York, too," I joked. "Are you ditching Providence for greener pastures?"

"Not at all. I just kind of never got around to cancelling the lease on the loft. And I went to college here before moving to Chicago, you know. I'm pretty well connected."

Of course, she has a loft.

"Really? Where did you study?" Maybe Irene was an old school friend of hers? A roommate?

"The New York Academy of Art, half of the time at least. The rest of it I spent in France. But I doubt you called to hear about my college days." There was an unspoken question in her words.

"No. Actually…" Come on, you can do this. "I just wanted to hear your voice."

And I did. It was the only thing that had the power to make me feel better right now. There was silence on the other end. I forced myself not to squirm. God, it was awful to feel so exposed. But when she finally responded, I was glad that I'd been honest.

"That's very sweet. I've thought about you, too. Quite a lot actually."

My heart jumped happily, and I laid my head against the backrest and closed my eyes. "Do you know when you'll be coming back?"

Please say soon, please say soon.

"I still have a few more things to do, I'm afraid. I also promised to have dinner with my uncle, who is in town for some kind of movie thing." I could practically see how she was rolling her eyes at the last bit. "I'm hoping to be back on the weekend."

"Well, I found myself with some unexpected free time, and I kind of hoped to spend some of that with you, but I'll just have to be patient then, I guess."

"I would have loved that," she said with regret. "But hey, if you have some free time, Remi has been nagging me to ask you about giving him that tour."

"How is your brother?"

She snorted. "Still unapologetically French, I'm afraid. And I don't quite know how to feel about him imposing on you, but he's been getting on my nerves. You'd be doing me a favour."

"It's no problem," I told her. It wasn't the Renaud I wanted, but a distraction was welcome all the same. "You can just give him my number."

"Alright, I will." I could hear the doorbell ringing again. Emmanuelle sighed. "I'm sorry, it seems like I'm a little sought after today." The tap, tap of steps began.

"I shouldn't keep you. I wish you a great time in New York, and I'll take care of Remi for you."

"Thanks, Sam. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah, see you soon." Again.