“Nope,” I disagree. “She was at my throat—all I ever did was defend myself.”
It’s clear that despite my correction, Principal Long is not swallowing my blasé attitude without a fight. So, I give in just a bit.
“I hear she had a bad reaction to some bugs,” I offer. “An allergy, I guess? Maybe that has something to do with it?”
Long bristles, snatching up a folder as if she plans to smack me with it. In the next instant, however, she slams it back down with a huff. “This isn’t a joke, Juliet,” she snaps.
“I didn’t say anything funny, did I?”
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Principal Long takes a deep breath as if trying to soothe an inner turmoil. I kick one foot against the flat front of her desk and tip the chair onto the back two legs, rocking the whole thing back and forth in a balancing act that distracts me just enough to ease the tension in my shoulders.
“You could be charged with assault,” she tells me.
I purse my lips. “You’re assuming I had something to do with Megan’s sudden withdrawal from school,” I remind her. “I haven’t done anything, but if you’re alleging?—”
“I’m not alleging anything, Juliet. We both know that this didn’t happen by accident.” Principal Long drops her hand back to her side before slumping into her chair and shaking her head at me. “I’m trying here, kid, but you’re not helping me. I told you to keep your head down. You have more important things to focus on than bullies.”
“You’re right,” I agree readily enough. “Which is why I don’t need to worry about bullies anymore. I doubt Megan or any of herfriends,” I smirk as I say the last word, “will be a problemafter her unfortunate accident. I’m free to focus on what I need to.”
“Juliet…”
Letting the chair drop back to all fours, I release a breath and get to my feet. “Is there anything else you need to talk to me about?” I ask.
Principal Long’s gaze focuses on me, and though I’ve not admitted to anything, it’s clear she can see past the bullshit. She might not have proof, but she knows—which means the whole school might know who’s responsible for Megan’s sudden disappearance. The thought doesn’t disturb me.
“I’ve been informed that Morpheus Calloway is still interested in becoming your official guardian,” she murmurs, switching subjects and making my back tense in reminder.
Megan might be out of the way, but there’s stillhim. Weeks might have passed and I might have moved on to more normal issues, but I haven’t forgotten about the kidnapping.
There are still questions left unanswered. Why? Why did he want to kidnap me? Why is he trying to force me to move back in with him? And more importantly, why did he change his mind at the last moment?
The phone call that had almost resulted in my death still lingers in the back of my mind, an ever-present danger that hasn’t yet been resolved.
“Do you have a lawyer?” Principal Long’s question doesn’t come as a surprise, but my answer is clearly not one she wants to hear.
“I don’t have money for a lawyer,” I tell her honestly.
The woman scrubs a hand down her face which, on a normal day, would appear somewhat smooth and unruffled, but today—and no doubt because of me—is tired. Guilt softens the hard edges of my face as I sigh.
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Principal Long,” I say. “But you can’t protect me from everything. No matter how much you want to.” The fact that she wants to, though, sits inside of me like a rotting organ.
The night of my eighteenth birthday, I thought I’d lost everyone that would give a shit about me. These last few months have proven that the deepest of ties can form in the darkest of moments. I’m no longer alone the same way I thought I was. My dreams no longer keep me from seeing the truth and to some, that could mean deadly consequences.
To me, it merely proves that I’m stronger than I thought. I’m not going to let that fact go. I am stronger thananyonein Silverwood ever thought.
“I won’t pretend to understand what you’re going through, Juliet,” Principal Long says, her voice quiet but firm. “I won’t lie to you either, though. You’re in a precarious position here. Each time you do something—each fight or suspected assault of another student—only gives Morpheus Calloway more ammunition to prove that he should take over as your guardian despite your age.” She winces, her lips twisting into a grimace as she turns her cheek and stares at something on the wall.
I follow her gaze, but the wall—like most of the walls inside these offices—is empty of anything of depth. The only thing hanging there is a basic patterned image in a cheap frame and a multitude of scratches and dents from various principals’ decor over the years. My attention returns to Long as she speaks again.
“Be very careful about what you do in the coming weeks,” she says, her voice a cautious warning that sets my nerves on edge.
If anyone understands how dangerous Morpheus Calloway can be—it’s me. For a moment, as I stare at the woman before me, I want to cave to the desire to lay it all at her feet. The old training to seek out an adult in the wake of too much trouble to handle is a silent battle against my new self. But Principal Longdoesn’t have the same power as Morpheus. If I were to tell her everything—the assault, the kidnapping, the murders—it would only hurt her.
No one can save me now except for me.
“I understand.” I accept her sentiment with a nod. “Thank you for worrying about me, Principal Long.” I move towards the door, pausing with my hand on the knob. I contemplate the words I want to say for a long moment before finally deciding on giving them a voice. “If there were more people like you in this world, maybe we all wouldn’t be as fucked up as we are.” Glancing over my shoulder, I give her what I hope is a smile not as sad as it feels. “Thanks again for everything.”
The door creaks open as my fingers twist the knob and Principal Long doesn’t stop me as I leave her office behind, striding up the short hallway towards the front office and then out into the main hall. The bell calling an end to the homeroom period rings as doors down the corridors crash against walls with the bustling rush of students hurrying from one classroom to the next. I let myself be swallowed by it all, falling into line as I drift to my next period, then the next, and the next after that.
