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“You do your job? I couldn’t agree more,” I tell him, enjoying the way his eyes flare with a fight he’s too chicken to give in to. “Are you going to buy me the damned parts or not?”

“I think you know as well as I do that those parts aren’t necessary. You just purchased several items for the water heater and the kitchen stoves. How could this place be in such disarray that new parts are needed for everything, all the time?”

How can someone so stupid be in charge of an entire university?

I’ve had just about enough, turning and exiting the office, slamming the door against the wall at my departure.

Whitmore chases after me, his shiny shoes clacking on the stone floors as he hollers behind me, his voice echoing in the empty corridor, cleared out by students who have made their way to their first class of the morning.

“Henry, surely you see it’s time to retire. The school is bitter cold, the students restless. They pay dearly for their education. Warmth should not be too much to expect—” the blubbering buffoon babbles on, my one good eye nearly rolling out of my head.

“This place has been my home as long as I can remember. I’ve treated her with respect, and as I’ve told you, the furnace needs repairs before it can be turned back on for the coming winter.”

Whitmore wrings his hands out in front of his face, pleading with me to see things his way. “That is the problem, Henry. Everything here falters, yet your repairs drag on. Perhaps it is time to set down the tools, my friend.”

Perhaps it is time you quit spending the student’s tuition on sex workers and blow, but who am I to dictate the needs of this place?

“I wouldn’t be your friend if you were the Devil’s own piss stain. You’ll regret this, mark my words!” I shout, wagging my hook hand in front of his face before spinning on my heel and waltzing out of here. Mum always did say I had a flare for the dramatics.

As I make my way to freedom, I pass Professor Ignatius, and Calista Ravenna, taking one long last glance at her breasts. Nice rack. I’ll surely miss those.

Fortunately, I never did come up with any reason I needed to stay here, and with that thought, I gather my things, packing up the last several decades of my life into one large bag. I toss it into the backseat of my truck and peel off the property in search of a retirement plan with big-breasted women in my lap and the sun shining on my face.

Chapter 19

Present Day

Calista

The sun blinds me as it reflects off the several feet of snow that covers the ground, the university now more of a graveyard than anything else, and despite all the time that has passed since we were ushered out here into the cold, we have no more answers than we left with.

A chill bites at me through my wool blanket, and a shiver skates down my spine. Alastair tugs me closer, resting his chin atop my head.

The man who’d been speaking with Whitmore nears us to talk with the paramedics, jotting down notes and nodding his head as he collects information from them. Before he can turn away, Alastair calls after him.

“Excuse me, sir.” The man turns, pointing to his chest. “Yes, sorry,” Alastair says with gentle laughter in his words, his relief almost tangible. “I know you’re hard at work, and I don’t want to disturb that, but it’s been hours that we’ve been out here, frozen and without answers. I think we’d all appreciate it if someone were able to provide some explanation of why we’re out here in the cold.”

Alastair’s commanding presence gathers a large crowd, students and faculty forming a circle around us, and I’m more than happy to allow them to block some of the wind that I fear might knock me over if it weren’t for the strong arm cradling my waist.

“I’m sorry, that’s a major oversight on my part. I’d addressed my concerns with Headmaster Whitmore,” he says, surveying the courtyard in search of the man in question. When he doesn’t spot him, his dark brows wrinkle, concern marring his stoney features. “He said he would take care of informing you all of what took place here, but I’m not sure where he went.” He shakes his head. “I’ll start with what you do know. There have been several casualties over the last couple of weeks, with several more occurring overnight, and for that, I am so sorry. I think we all wish we could have gotten to you all sooner, but with the strength of the storm, it was unsafe to send my team out and we were forced to wait.”

“And what exactly made you realize we needed help? I thought we were unable to send for anyone,” I question.

The man nods. “The coroner received Edwin Chadwick shortly after his passing, and given his age, an autopsy was not initially performed. But then Philomela Grant arrived and her family was unconvinced she would have taken her own life. With the holidays and staffing shortages, her autopsy took longer than anticipated, and by the time the results had come back, the storm had already begun. Edwin had not been buried yet and a late autopsy was performed, which confirmed our suspicions, but it was already too late.”

An eerie silence falls around us, the only sound the whistling of the wind. Alastair tightens his hold on me, letting me know he’s here and he has me. Not that I’d ever think otherwise.

“It appears the furnace had been in desperate need of maintenance, and as a result, there was a carbon monoxide leak that poisoned the school, likely worsening with every day the storm passed on, growing stronger as your need for warmth grew with it.”

My ears ring, every death replaying before my eyes as if I’m seeing it all in a new light, and then it really hits me.

We could have died.

I’ve known that, of course. I’ve feared death for weeks now, but hearing that the lives lost weren’t at the hands of a selective murderer, but instead, a result of Whitmore’s negligence, firing the only man that ever kept anything working in this place, sours my stomach and I struggle to stay upright.

My throat grows thick, tears pricking the backs of my eyes as I think of all the bright minds that were lost, and all those that could have followed close behind.

I lean into Alastair, shutting my eyes as I focus on the steady beat of his heart, unable to focus on the rest of the explanation the man in charge provides.