Page 74 of For Your Own Good

It’s good to hear her say that.

“Hey,” he says, “are you really coming back to Belmont? Like, after your... after what happened to your mom here?”

“Hell, yes. How else am I going to find out what happened to her?”

A minute and a half left. “Can I ask you something? About the case, I mean,” Zach says.

“Sure.”

“Do you know what was used? I mean, to... kill them?”

“Yeah. They had to tell my lawyer. It’s just not public.”

“Was it really a poison?”

Pause. “Yes. And they think I put it in her coffee.”

46

FALLON ARRIVES ATschool early, but not before the reporters. They’ve already congregated outside the gate, along with a coffee-and-pastry food truck. She stops only to introduce herself to the guard.

The reporters don’t interest her, and neither does the trial. The murders are horrible, yes. Especially the murder of Sonia Benjamin, who was a good teacher. Not the best she ever had, but she did treat her students with respect. Teddy could have learned a lot from her if his head wasn’t stuck so far up his own ass.

Fallon’s car is just as crappy as her apartment. Probably the worst one in the parking lot. She doesn’t care about that, either. Or her clothes, which are secondhand, from a thrift shop in the ritzy area of town. It’s possible she is wearing a skirt and blouse donated by a student’s parents.

Doesn’t matter.

The security company workers are still on-site, installing the newcamera system. They’re the only people around this early in the morning. Fallon parks and goes inside, heading straight to the teachers’ lounge.

Before yesterday, she had never seen it. The kids had always wondered what it was like inside, speculating that the lounge was a private dining room with menus and waiters and golden carafes filled with coffee.

Wrong.

It really is just a lounge, albeit a nice one with comfortable furniture, a decent kitchen area, and an extraordinary amount of coffee choices. They do have real cups and plates and silverware, though it’s nothing fancy. A portrait of the school’s founder hangs on the wall, right next to a framed poster that declareseducation is the key to freedom.

Fallon makes herself a cup of Prime Bold and heads back down to her classroom. Taking advantage of the quiet, she sits down at her desk to prepare for the day.

She’s reviewed Sonia’s lesson plans three times. Now that she’s here, working at the school, she feels nervous about teaching. She has no idea how to do it.

“Good morning.”

The headmaster stands in the doorway, briefcase in one hand and a travel mug in the other. Fallon is a little stunned. Though she briefly saw him during her initial interview, they didn’t really speak.

“Good morning,” she says, rising from her chair. “What a surprise.”

He smiles a little. “It’s not often anyone arrives before I do. When I saw you in here, I had to say hello. And welcome back.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“The circumstances aren’t ideal, of course,” he says. The headmaster takes a deep breath and glances away, into the hall. “But it’s always nice to have a former student return. Belmont students are usually our best teachers.”

He leaves her feeling even more nervous.

Maybe this was a mistake.

When she volunteered to be a teacher, it sounded easy enough in her head. Now that she’s sitting in a real classroom, it doesn’t.

Coming back to town was one thing. First, because she had nowhere else to go. She’d never be able to get a job teaching anywhere else. This is the only place that will take her at her word, because she’s part of the Belmont family.