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ChapterTwenty-Four
PHOENIX
It’s only been a week, but days that don’t start with Professor Segul are decidedly boring.
This is turning out to be a dull Saturday.
That’s why I’ve been lying on the mattress of my messy studio, surrounded by open books. I haven’t been able to concentrate since Athena Belus and a group of supposed well-wishers dragged me out of his office.
At first, I thought they’d suspected us of having sex but they just assumed he was a sexist who said shitty things to his female students.
The sun shines in from the far-right of the room, where I forgot to draw the curtains last night. Squinting, I scroll through my phone, checking to see if Dad has even received my messages.
According to the app, he hasn’t.
So, this means he’s either tossed away the phone or someone has disposed of it… and him. I close my eyes, suck in a deep breath, and wait for an inkling of worry.
But there isn’t even a twinge of concern.
Turns out that Dad was right about me, and I only saw him as a piggy bank because I really don’t give a shit that he’s gone. Does that make me a terrible person? He could be sitting in someone’s basement right now, pleading for his life.
I shake my head.
Dad has powerful friends to protect him, and he’s way too cautious to cause the level of offense to get himself killed, let alone detained.
I tap out of my text messages and check my bank balance, which is still over four-figures since I haven’t spent much of what Professor Segul transferred earlier in the week.
My chest fills with warmth at his generosity, but the sensation cools around the edges with guilt. This is more money than I need to survive, and I’d only blurted two-thousand pounds as the starting point of a negotiation.
A knock sounds on the door, and my pulse goes from resting to a hundred beats per minute. I roll off the bed, trip over the denim jacket I’d tossed on the floor the night before, and leap over my open book bag.
“Who is it?” I say before I get to the door.
Whoever’s out there doesn’t answer, but I glance through the peep hole to find Charlotte standing in the hallway.
My heart sinks. It’s not Professor Segul. I shake off that feeling and tell myself that a girl can wait another day before her fix.
“Hey.” I open the door.
Charlotte’s damp hair drips over the front of her Union Jack T-shirt that hangs down to her knees. I move aside, letting her step into my studio apartment.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” she says.
“What are you talking about?” I blurt because she’s telling the truth.
Charlotte walks around the breakfast bar, hops on the stool, and rests her elbows on the laminate surface.
“Are you still freaked out about your dad?” she asks.
I rub the back of my head and frown. “To be honest, I kind of got over him the moment I stepped off the train.”
She shakes her head. “I know he’s a bit of a pain—”
“It’s nice not to have to go home for the weekend every Friday night.”
Charlotte huffs. “Yeah, I suppose. But whatever happened with that guy you met in the Red Room? You were so excited about him on Monday, then everything went quiet.”
I raise a shoulder. “He’s busy.”
