Page 25 of Second Chance

“Who knows.” Colette sets her glass down and returns to cutting tomatoes. “But the chance at safety is certainly a good reason to move back.”

“Move back?” This is the first Tony’s heard about her considering it, and given everything she just said, it’s a little shocking.

Colette shrugs helplessly. “There are universities in Europe, as well. Some of them have tenure.”

“Thought it was the sign of a weak constitution,” Daniel snaps. “Running away.”

“Daniel…” Colette doesn’t add anything, but the way she looks down at the table reveals they’ve talked about this before. Maybe she told Tony about her sister and about Sean to contextualize what Daniel must view as a betrayal; maybe she’s still protecting herself, trying to get Tony on her side. Daniel can be a little intense when he’s worried about something.

The only thing Tony can think to do is change the subject. “So, stabbed in her office. Who would be that…” Tony trails off. He wants to say “nuts,” but given last year’s events from Lily’s mental health crisis to Stacy Allan and the student shewas manipulating, he feels it would be insensitive. Instead of finishing the sentence, he turns to the fridge to get out the mustard for the salad dressing. Daniel knows what he means.

The bar stool creaks as Daniel shifts on it. “We don’t know yet. It’s not like Lobell is on the cutthroat edge of academic intrigue or something. There isn’t even much infighting in the faculty.”

“She’s in psychology, right?” Tony asks as if he doesn’t know.

“Yes.” Colette dumps the tomatoes, now much smaller than Tony would have bothered dicing them, into the salad bowl. “Something to do with zebrafish and their egg sacs. She told me all about it once at an interminable mixer, and I forgot everything she told me.”

“Behavioral psychology,” Daniel adds.

Tony raises an eyebrow as he shakes the salad dressing. He should ask Gianna more about her studies. Based on today, she would only give him one-word answers, but he wants to know what zebrafish have to do with psychology.

Daniel shrugs. “That’s all I know.”

With the salad ready, Tony slides the fresh loaf of bread from the bakery across the street out of its paper bag and slices it. “And it’s not…the way it was last year?”

Neither of them answers him.

“I mean.” He looks down at the cutting board. “There are no…students involved?”

“Not unless one did it,” Colette says grimly.

Tony swallows.

“We’re not going there.” Daniel’s voice is tight and harsh. “You know where that got us.”

“Will you ever stop blaming me for Andrew Clayfield?” It sounds conversational, but the hunched line of Colette’s shoulders tells Tony it’s anything but.

Daniel rolls his eyes. “I don’tblameyou.”

“Really.”

“Yeah, really, Colette. I just wish…” Daniel doesn’t need to finish. Halfway through the summer, news reached the faculty email server about Andrew Clayfield, whom both Daniel and Colette had suspected of committing Mario’s murder last year. He never recovered from the psychosis Stacy Allan’s relentless manipulation caused and committed suicide in the allegedly secure facility he was being treated in.

Daniel took it hard, though he rarely talks about it.

“We don’t know anything yet,” Daniel says. “Not even if she’s going to be okay. Is Gianna? Okay, I mean.”

The cupboard door slams louder than Tony intended when he shuts it with his elbow after getting out the plates. “She says she is. Dinner?”

They eat on the couch. Daniel doesn’t have a proper table to sit at, and the kitchen island only seats two. The silence feels fraught to Tony. Usually, they talk about their days, play worst customer versus worst student question of the day. Today, there isn’t anything to talk about. Or maybe there would be if Daniel weren’t running on anxiety and Colette weren’t trying to undo years of staunch independence, and Tony had any fucking clue what he could possibly say to make any of this better.

Tony turns on the TV and sets it to Spotify to protect himself from the noise in his own head. He picks one of the premade playlists at random and lets the twangy acoustic guitar from one of Daniel’s favorite bands fill the silence.

They finish eating to the dulcet sounds of whatever the algorithm decided Daniel wants to listen to this week. When Colette’s phone starts buzzing, breaking the conversational lull, Tony breathes out in relief. She glances at it and sets it to speakerphone with a wry smile.

“I’m not coming to New York to bail anyone out this time,” Jeff’s tinny voice warns.

Colette makes a face at the phone. “You didn’t bail me out. You thought I was guilty.”

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