Page 25 of Good Girls Lie

She looks tired today, not the same elegant creature I encountered when I arrived.

I follow her into her sanctum. “How is Dr. Grassley? I meant to come by earlier and ask after her. Lost track of myself.”

“Have a seat.”

Uh-oh.

“Ash, I have some bad news. Dr. Grassley has passed away.”

The words reverberate through me as intensely as the bells. “What?”

“The doctor at the hospital said she had an underlying issue, exacerbated by multiple incidents this year alone.”

Holy shit. There’s no way around this, my actions have just killed a woman.

I’m too upset to cry, just sit, frozen, listening to the dean’s platitudes.

She’s dead. Dead. A mistake. A simple, stupid mistake, and a talented, lovely life is crushed forever.

Do I have to admit what I’ve done?

I tune back in when I realize what the dean is asking. “Are you okay, Ash? I know this must be such a shock. I got the sense you and Muriel hit it off. You were so concerned about her...”

Tell her. Admit your sins, be absolved.

Tell her. Tell her!

She’s watching me with that curious hawk-stare, and I chicken out.

“Yes. We did. She was very kind.”

“There will be a memorial service soon. And we will start the search for a replacement right away. It may be more than a few weeks before we can find someone of Muriel’s caliber to take over. It looks like your wish is granted. You may take this time away to decide what you want to do going forward.”

I killed her I killed her I killed her.

But I only nod and say, “Thank you.”

“Off to biology. I’ll let Dr. Hall know you were with me. Stop by the ladies room and wash your face. And, Ash?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Try not to worry yourself too much. This is a rough start to term, I know. But things will calm down. You’re going to fit in here very well.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

If she only knew.

I scamper off as if I’m heading straight to biology, which is, thank heavens, in the building behind the theater. On my way, I stop by Grassley’s office, my eyes peeled for a small gold box.

There. On her desk.

I snatch it, jam it in my bag, and take off. I will dispose of this later.

My God, not only have I killed a teacher, now I’ve stolen the evidence.

What the hell is next?

I have no answer to that.