Page 111 of Endless Anger
I keep my gaze on Lucy’s retreating form. “If you say so.”
“Frankly, it was a bit of a shock when she applied for the teaching position at all. Most of the faculty thought we’d seen the last of her when she graduated.”
Turning my head, I refocus on him. “Did she say something that would make you believe that?”
As far as I know, the one time Quincy came home in complete shambles was her only public admission that things were amiss here. Otherwise, she kept on like her college career had been a good experience and never said anything else about it.
Since I wound up not going and she’d gotten out alive, I didn’t think it mattered all that much.
Except…
I didn’t tell Lucy anything. Just dropped her in with the sharks and hoped they’d smell blood somewhere else.
Meanwhile, the blood stains my hands. Invisible as it is—the feeling of it never ceases.
Dean Bauer exhales, staring up at the Obeliskos. “Quincy was an excellent student, but much like Ms. Wolfe, she had issues…fitting in, I suppose. A college campus operates with dozens of fast-moving parts, and it thrives best when those parts understand each other and work in unison. Your sister wasn’t interested in embracing the Anderson name or the responsibilities that come with it, and that’s why she started that glorified beautification program, which has been a pain in my ass for nearly a decade. The higher-ups didn’t appreciate that. Given how they feel about your family… Well, they’re an easily alarmed bunch.”
“Seems to be a pretty common denominator in Fury Hill.”
“Not to mention the belief in a cursed lineage.” He brings his chin down, looking at me. “Do you believe in the curse, boy?”
His attitude keeps shifting, flipping back and forth between cordial administrator and weird little rat.
I don’t trust the fucker one bit, so I’m definitely not going to be honest with him.
“I’m afraid I find a curse to be too simplistic for my tastes,” I say, rolling back on my heels. “It’s too easy for the original families to write off every bad experience at Avernia as a result of some sinister magic.”
Hands still in my pockets, I walk forward until the toes of our shoes are touching. He’s a few inches shorter than me and perspiring profusely. I wonder if it’s not just Quincy that he has issues with, but Anderson blood entirely—doeshebelieve in the curse?
That won’t do. I don’t want him to think it’s some centuries-old beef bringing destruction to his cushy little campus.
When this place burns down, I want him toknowit was me.
“Don’t you think that sometimes, bad things that happen are simply the consequences of one’s actions? The culmination of corruption coming to a head?” I cock an eyebrow, tracking the bead of sweat that slides down the bridge of his nose. “Misdeeds coming to light?”
“Perhaps, though institutionally, we still frown on vigilante-style justice. If that’s the sort of thrill you chase, I fear you’ll be joining the ranks of our shunned.” The dean clears his throat, reaching up to adjust his tie. “If you’re aware of any misdeeds, Mr. Anderson, I implore you to report them to the school board for immediate investigation. There are several active criminal cases open, you know. Each of them has, interestingly, occurred since your arrival.”
“Coincidences, I’m sure.”
He presses his lips into a thin line and shuffles back a step. “Of course. I wasn’t suggesting otherwise.”
Giving the library one last lingering glance, he starts off toward the administration buildings across from the quad, pausing just once. He tosses me a look over his shoulder, something unreadable passing through his gaze.
“However…” A pause, and he faces forward again. “I would keep an eye on your friend, Mr. Anderson. If she’s not involved in what’s going on, it’s very clear someone wants us to think she is.”
33
LUCY
Foxe tossesanother spitball on the desktop computer across from my study table. That’s twelve and counting, and if I wasn’t trying to do my ecology homework, I’d snap at him to pick them up.
“Are you nine?” I ask when he wads another piece of paper and places it on the tip of his tongue.
“What? It’s nottechnicallylittering if it’s indoors,” he whines, earning an irritated look from Aurora, who sits at the opposite end of the table with Yuri, holding her textbook close to her face.
When I begged her to join me in the Obeliskos, she agreed, but only if I promised to tell her what was going on with Asher and me.
Unfortunately for her, my promise was made facetiously, since I’ve been avoiding him since the upstairs incident.
