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CHAPTERNINETEEN
The professor sitting across from me looked exactly what I thought someone who taught classical music should look like. Her hair was wiry and gray, and she was wearing an all-black baggy suit that looked as though it might have been in style in the 1960s.
But according to the information provided to me by the Harvard catalog I had found, this woman was very accomplished. Not that it mattered. We were here for a reason, and that was to find out what she knew about Madeline.
“So, Miss Ivanov, you are interested in music?”
I nodded, an eager smile plastered on my face. Natasha thought we should not give our real names, but I didn’t see the issue with it. After all, no one knew that I was here. Hell, no one knew I was in Boston. If they did discover this little jaunt, I could claim that I came to learn more about the campus.
After all, my grades were good enough to transfer.
Personally, I hoped that this would fly under the radar. I could not afford anyone looking into what I was up to.
“I am,” I said.
The woman leaned forward. She smelled like leather and resin, which was an odd combination considering she was a flutist.
“A friend of mine, Madeline Blanchi, told me about the program. I’ve never considered music as a major, but I’ve played the flute my entire life, and it just sounds like there is a wonderful program here.”
A bright smile took over her face. “Not many people come to this school for the music program. Unfortunately, I think that we lose a great amount of talent to some of the other local schools that are more focused on music education.”
I was sure that they did. Who came to Harvard for the music program? I wondered.
“Madeline said that this was her favorite part of being here, and that you were her favorite professor.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, I worried that I might have overplayed my hand. Was this woman suspicious? I held my breath slightly as I waited for her response.
“You mentioned a Madeline Blanchi?”
I nodded, hoping that I was able to keep the smile plastered on my face. I looked over at Natasha. “Madeline always mentioned enjoying her time here, didn’t she?”
Natasha nodded. “She did.”
The professor blinked several times, and I felt my heartbeat heavily in my chest. “I am so sorry,” she said. “But I have never had a student by the last name Blanchi.”
This time I was surprised and disappointed. I had found that picture of Madeline in the school paper, and I was sure that she was the Blanchi daughter that Andrea mentioned. Christ, I thought. How many girlfriends did Leo have at Harvard?
“Are you certain that you do not remember Madeline?” Natasha asked. She looked down slightly, and for a moment, I genuinely thought that Natasha was genuinely sad. “She mentioned you so many times before…” Natasha sniffled, and my mouth nearly dropped in shock as I watched her play the woman in front of us.
Apparently, my cousin was quite the actress. Who knew?
“Are you alright, dear?” The woman reached forward and pressed a tissue in Natasha’s hands. Natasha pretended to wipe her tears, but I could tell that she was faking it. I bit my lip to try and hide the smirk that was threatening to form on my lips.
“Thank you,” Natasha said, her voice soft. “I just cannot believe that she has been gone for so many years. She was such an idol to the two of us. We looked up to her so much.”
The woman looked genuinely sad for us, and for a moment, I felt bad for her. But only for a moment. In truth, I was pissed that I had bet on the wrong person. I was not going to get another day in Boston, and I was not sure when I was even going to get back up here again.
“Do you mean Maddy Stephens?”
I paused. Natasha and I looked at one another quickly, neither of us knowing what to say to the question. The young girl in the photo that I had seen in the photo had not been identified by name, and I had assumed that her last name was Blanchi based on what Andrea told me.
But perhaps, she changed it. Maybe, she wanted to fit in, or maybe, her last name was not even Blanchi.
“Such a shame of what happened to her.” The woman shook her head as she recalled whatever happened to Madeline, or rather, Maddy.
“A true shame,” Natasha said.
“I am surprised that she mentioned me,” the woman said.
