His voice was confident, certain, and I relaxed at his words. At the moment, it felt like all we had were a few random puzzle pieces, but hopefully, once we had some info on Petr, we could start putting the pieces together.
Later, sitting in our morning lecture, Cassius leaned over and told me in a low voice about his successful dinner with his parents the previous night—how his dad had seemed receptive to the idea of letting the Four join the Alstone Members Club early, after Cass had pointed out that they were technically adults, and some shit about it being good for networking and male bonding or whatever.
We were making our way out of the lecture hall when the TA, Joseph, who insisted on students addressing him by his first name, pulled me to one side. “Winter, can I have a quick word?”
I nodded and told Cassius I’d meet him later, then followed Joseph to the desk, where our professor was gathering his jacket and laptop bag. He smiled at me, clapped Joseph on the shoulder, and left the room.
Once he’d disappeared from view, Joseph turned to me. “I’m concerned, Winter.” His eyes narrowed as he studied me. “I noticed you whispering with Mr. Drummond instead of paying attention to the lecture. You’re a strong student—I don’t want the bad influence of Mr. Drummond and his little crew of degenerates to be responsible for your grades dropping.”
What? The words came tumbling out of my mouth in an angry rush. “Look. I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention today, but my grades are consistently high, and you know that. What’s more, Cassius’ are even higher than mine. When you’ve got a valid concern, speak to me then, but don’t try and insinuate that there’s an issue with my grades when we both know there isn’t one. And”—my voice rose—“how dare you call his friends degenerates? Do you realise I could report you for slander? I don’t think the dean would take too kindly to one of his star PhD students speaking like that about other students.”
He gaped at me, then straightened up. “I think we’re finished here,” he said stiffly.
What was his problem? Asshole.
I turned on my heel and left without another word, almost running straight into Cassius, who was lurking just outside the doorway.
Oh, no. “I thought you’d left. Did you hear that?”
He stared down at me, his eyes wide and serious. “Yeah. You defended us.” His voice was full of wonder.
“Of course I did. I wouldn’t let anyone speak like that about any of you.”
He suddenly reached out and pulled me into a tight hug, kissing the top of my head, before releasing me. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Cass.” I watched him jog away from me, then, shaking off the TA’s weird behaviour, I focused on the task at hand.
After going back to my apartment to change into a black wool dress, thick tights, and flat black ankle boots, and wolfing down a quick lunch, I met Cass, and he dropped me in the centre of Alstone outside an elegant white building with a pillared entrance and a smart black door, which was open. “The Wilson Lounge” was engraved in a small plaque next to the door, above an old-fashioned brass doorbell.
Inside I was greeted by a hostess in a crisp white shirt and black skirt, who led me to a small round table covered in a white cloth, next to a tall sash window. As I sat down to wait for my mother, my phone vibrated, Weston’s name flashing across the screen.
West: Just heard from the garage. Your car’s delayed by another day. Sorry.
Me: It’s OK. It’s not your fault. I can wait an extra day.
West: You’ve got more patience than me.
Me: Says the person who’s been waiting over 6 months for his dream car.
West: *laughing emoji* True. Some things are worth the wait.
A throat cleared, and my nose was hit by a waft of expensive floral perfume. I dragged my gaze upwards to see my mother eyeing me with disapproval.
; Me: Got to go.
I stood and greeted her, both of us with forced politeness—my mother, constantly aware of the presence and hushed conversation of those around us, her eyes darting around the room, and me, because I needed to dig for information.
After we’d ordered coffees, she leaned forwards in her chair, clasping her hands together on top of the tablecloth.
“Did you have a reason for wanting to meet with me today?”
I made a snap decision to go with a direct approach.
“I just wanted to ask you when you last saw my dad.” I kept an innocent, bland expression on my face as I continued. “He was going to visit you the day I left for university, wasn’t he? I’m sure that’s what he’d planned to do, anyway.”
“I don’t recall the last time I saw him. Not since I married Arlo.” Her eyes met mine, glacial and completely devoid of emotion.