Page 75 of Hollow

He knows what I’m thinking, but he just gives the faintest shake of his head. His dark eyes gleam. I didn’t do it, they say. It wasn’t me.

And I believe him.

But I’m not sure for how long.

Chapter 23

Crane

“Crane, you look terrible,” Daniels says as I stagger into the dining room and swipe a mug from the stack by the door.

“Thanks,” I say as I stand beside him as the cook takes the metal carafe off the wood stove and pours us both some coffee. If I have to give this school some credit, it’s that their coffee is the best I’ve ever had, no doubt because some sort of magic has been used in the process. “I feel like death warmed over,” I add.

“Perhaps you’re working too hard,” Daniels says as we walk together toward a table in the corner. Daniels leans in, the scent of pipe tobacco clinging to his tweed jacket. “Did you hear what happened to Desi?”

“The linguistics professor?” I ask. “No. Do tell.”

We sit down, and he gives the room another sweep of his eyes before he whispers, “He’s gone.”

“Gone?” I pick up my mug, but my hand is trembling enough for me to put it back down. Must be the lack of sleep, the nightmares, the everything. “He quit?”

“We don’t know. Yesterday afternoon, they were looking for him. Searched his room. All his possessions are there, his bed made. But he never showed up for class. I think they searched the campus for him, and there’s no sign of him.”

Aman Desi. Smart man, always talked of his family back in Bombay. “He probably left in the night. Wanted to escape.”

“It’s not a prison,” Daniels snorts. “Besides, he left his papers behind.”

My stomach churns uneasily, and when I take a sip of my coffee, there’s a bitterness there. I wish I could separate the images I have from last night to figure out what’s real and what’s a dream. But I’ve got nothing. And as much as I want to discuss it with Daniels, he obviously doesn’t see the school the same way I do. If I were him, I wouldn’t be so trusting about a school for witches run by a coven.

Then again, I’m still here. I’m still here because of Kat and now Brom. And I’ll be damned if I don’t help Brom get to the bottom of what’s happened to him.

I have no appetite this morning, so after the coffee with Daniels, the conversation switching over to more genial topics, I decide to skip breakfast and head to the classroom. I have no idea if Brom is in my energy class this morning, but I must speak to Kat.

Though the sun has risen, the morning is still dark with heavy clouds when I walk to the classrooms. The tone of the campus has changed in such a short time, summer surrendering completely to fall. The chill in the air is damp, the kind that seeps through your coat and lives in your bones, and I have to shake it off many times before I get inside the building.

To my delight, I see Kat waiting outside the classroom’s locked door.

“Kat,” I say, my voice coming out hoarse, echoing faintly in the hall.

“Crane,” she says, and to my relief, there’s just as much desperation in her voice as there is in mine.

I stride toward her and embrace her without any thought, wrapping my arms around her and holding her tight, breathing in her smell of sun-soaked meadows, letting it fill me with light. She lets out a soft sigh that warms my heart, and I pull back, placing my hands on her cheeks, searching her face. She’s as beautiful as ever, but there are dark circles beneath her azure eyes, and her skin looks paler than normal.

“Are you alright?” I ask. And then I catch myself. Should I be touching her like this now that Brom is back? Is whatever we had, whatever hint of relationship that was about to bloom like a rose, now doomed to wither on the stem?

“I’m sorry, I should…” I take my hands off her sweet face, but she reaches out and grabs my wrists, holding them.

“Please,” she implores. “I need you right now. I need to talk to you.”

“And I need to talk to you.”

And I need to be with you. I need to know if you’re still mine.

I hear the door to the hall open, and she drops her grip on my wrists, and I automatically take a step back from her. A couple of other students file in, and before they have a chance to see us together, I quickly reach for my keys and unlock the classroom door, ushering Kat in.

“Come see me after class,” I whisper to her.

Of course, as one student passes me, he gives me a smirk, like he knows exactly what’s going on between us. The humorous thing is he really has no idea. Even I don’t know myself.