Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 118125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
And let him take a deep breath, straighten his spine, and push the door to Walden’s office open.
Lachlan Walden didn’t even look up from his laptop; his fingers never slowed, moving across the keys swiftly while behind the bright-lit lenses of his glasses, pale blue eyes darted across the screen.
“I assume,” he murmured without preamble, “you’re here about Christopher Northcote and his current medical condition.”
Rian barely waited for Damon to step in behind him before Rian reached back and slammed the door shut, so Luke wouldn’t have to hear his rising voice. “Oh, so you finally figured out he’s in the infirmary after a week?”
Walden hit the Enter key with a particularly emphatic clack. “I’ve known from the moment he collapsed in class. Who do you think the nursing staff reports to?” A cutting look flicked to Rian over the screen of the laptop, steady and unblinking. “Is there a reason for your tone, Mr. Falwell?”
“You know damned well there is.” Rian wasn’t letting that cold stare cow him this time; he planted his hands on his hips and glared at Walden. “I’m done dragging this out. We’ve tried calling his parents. We’ve tried waiting. The situation is getting worse, and we have a responsibility to do something.”
“We do,” Walden agreed so simply that Rian blinked; he’d been building up to an argument, but that just fizzled as Walden continued smoothly, “I’d be interested in your opinions on what that ‘something’ might be.” Walden’s upper lip twitched. “I’m also interested in how long you’ve been attempting to contact his parents without informing me.”
“Don’t.” Damon’s voice drifted from behind Rian, steely and forbidding. “Don’t turn this on us. We are all responsible for Chris. All three of us.”
Walden inclined his head briefly in acknowledgment. “I take it some new development has triggered this confrontation.”
“You said we can’t do anything if Chris hasn’t been violating the rules, right?” Rian bit off. “Well, his roommate just confessed. Chris is sneaking off campus after curfew every night, but not even his roommate knows where he’s going. In fact, I think I almost caught him when I was out for a walk, but I thought it was a bear.”
“A bear, Mr. Falwell?” Walden repeated.
“A bear. I didn’t get a good look. It doesn’t matter.” Rian lifted his chin defiantly. “We have a confirmed violation. It’s time to do something.”
“Hm. Interesting.” Walden said each syllable slowly, as if mocking Rian’s impatience. “And no response from his parents at all?”
Damon made an irritated sound, deep and growling. “None. We’ve both tried. No emails, no phone calls back. It’s been over a week now, and they haven’t damned well said boo.”
“That is...disappointing.” Walden sighed. “I’ll reach out. Put more pressure on them to respond. Attempt to find any other avenues such as alternate emergency contacts, so they cannot remain unaware of their son’s predicament.” His fingers finally stopped on the keyboard, the rainfall patter of their noise silencing. “In the meantime, what would you like to do?”
“Search his room,” Damon interjected. “Might find something. Some kinda clue to point out where he’s going. Luke said he takes his bag with him, so what’s he putting in that damned thing that he needs when he’s sneaking out?”
“That, too, is an interesting thing to contemplate.” Walden leaned back in his chair, somehow managing to slouch while still maintaining perfect posture and a rod-stiff spine, all angles inside the neat lines of his black wool knit suit. “I take it Mr. Maddow is currently hovering outside, wondering if he’s about to face consequences.”
Rian nodded. “He’s pretty worried.”
Walden’s lips thinned, before he called, “Mr. Maddow.” His voice turned stern. “Please come inside.”
Several seconds passed before the door creaked slowly open, just enough for Luke’s head to lean inside; he watched Walden like he was looking at some kind of poisonous animal he couldn’t quite identify.
“...am I in trouble?”
“No,” Walden said, flicking his fingers imperiously. “None at all. We’ll pretend this conversation never happened. You were never here. Understood?”
Luke exhaled, then stepped inside, nudging the door closed and leaning against it with his hands behind his back, gripping the knob. “Yeah. That’s good.”
Walden cocked a brow. “Then please, tell me what you told Mr. Falwell and Mr. Louis.”
“Well...”
While Luke explained again, straggling out his words, Rian retreated to lean against the wall next to the door, listening; Damon joined him, and Rian gave him a grateful look as they rested arm to arm, before turning back to following everything Luke was saying. The same story; the same details; nothing changing. Not that he’d thought Luke was lying, when he’d have no reason to if he was so worried for his friend and roommate, but the consistency of it even under Walden’s drilling stare was reassuring.
But then Luke finished, “...and when he comes back, he’s dirty all over except his clothes, and he smells real bad. Like he’s been swimming in... I don’t know. Beer, I guess, but he ain’t drunk. Sometimes other stuff.” He made a face. “Like, sharper, heavier.”