Page 56 of The Secrets We Bury
Before she finishes, the door to her office swings open. As one, the two of us look in the direction of the open entryway. Ice slams into my veins, freezing over everything as Morpheus Calloway stands there in a crisp Armani suit and thousand-dollar loafers.
No.
“Mr. Calloway?” Dimly, I hear the creak of Principal Long’s chair as she rises from her seat and circles the desk. Her figure appears, at first, in my periphery and then more centered as she steps in front of me to hold out a hand to the man standing in the doorway. “I’m currently in a meeting with a student. So, if you could?—”
“Since that student will soon be my ward, I thought it pertinent to be here,” Morpheus murmurs.
Soon be my ward.The room narrows down to a long tunnel.The end is illuminated, revealing the two bodies of Principal Long and Morpheus Calloway.
Soon be my ward.Their muffled voices drift down the tunnel towards me. I can hear them speaking, make out the cadence of their voices, but not the words themselves. Why? I’m right here. I should be able to hear them, shouldn’t I?
Soon be my ward.He thinks he’s already won. He’s confident he will win. I’m not his ward. I’m not his. I’m not anybody’s.
I stand abruptly and the tunnel disappears. I’m back in Principal Long’s office and both she and Morpheus are staring at me.
“I’m not your ward, Mr. Calloway.” My voice shakes the slightest bit, but I straighten my spine and continue on anyway, pretending like I can’t hear it. “What I discuss with Principal Long is my business, not yours.”
Morpheus’ expression goes a careful blank. I’ve only seen the expression rarely from him, but I know it’s the kind of face he makes when someone has pissed him off but he can’t say or do anything to let out the anger. He’s nothing if not protective of his public image.
“I would disagree, Juliet,” he replies. “There are quite a number of angry parents out there.” He gestures down the short hallway at his back. “Many are discussing the idea of suing.”
“They’re welcome to,” I say. “I have nothing for them to take.”
Principal Long stands between us, the physical buffer I need to at least pretend strength. “I truly am sorry, Mr. Calloway,” she states, recapturing his attention. “But this is highly inappropriate and as the policy stands, right now, I can’t allow you into a meeting with a student you don’t have guardianship rights to.”
Morpheus’ gaze remains on mine for several long seconds, pinning me in place with that cold rapt attention of his until I feel like a bug under a microscope. When he blinks and turns back to Principal Long, I drag in a long lungful of air.
“Of course.” The smile on his face is polite. “I understand that you’re just doing your job, Principal Long. I’d hoped Juliet would be more willing to rely on me for help. I was obviously wrong. She’s not yet ready to admit when she needs help.”
As if I’d ever need help from him. I don’t say as much, but I do stay back as Principal Long leads him out into the hall. Her voice is low, but conciliatory, and just before the door shuts behind the two of them, Morpheus looks over his shoulder and our eyes connect.
The second they do, I’m right back where I started. A pretty butterfly trapped under the glass.
Pretty girl… my pretty… pretty girl.
21
LEX
No new information. I growl as frustration pounds through my head in the same way an impending headache might at the email waiting for me in my inbox. I’ve checked every single day for weeks and still there’s nothing in regard to Juliet’s mother. No sign of the woman—in or outside of the States.
If she’s gone underground in another country, she’s done a damn good job. The dark web has outliers everywhere all around the world. There should besomethingby now, but every time I check, it’s the same damn response.
Nothing.
Nada.
Zip.
Fucking. Ghost.
I lean back in my seat, cracking my knuckles as I stare at the illuminated screen before me. There’s too much to do and not enough hours in the day, which is why I’d decided to skip school today. Never in my life did I think I’d be annoyed by what I do for my brothers, but it’s become that way. School. Football. Working for Darrio.
As if the bastard senses my annoyance, my phone chirps and I glance at where it rests to the side of my keyboard. A text from Gio comes through, highlighted on the lock screen for a brief moment before I snatch it up and read the rest of the message.
GIO: Dropping PG off. Shit happened at school. Heading to practice. Talk later.
PG?It takes me a moment to decipher Gio’s text before I remember what he calls her. Prep Girl. I roll my eyes. What a ridiculous name. Juliet is no prep girl. Not anymore. Then the rest of the message hits me.
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