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“Let’s talk about why you’re here.” She loses the smile as she sits down behind her mahogany desk and unbuttons her blazer.
Her words make it sound like I’m one of the troubled kids. Unbuttoning my own suit, I sit down in front of her desk.
“Please,” I smile, encouraging her.
“You’re an ex-convict—”
“I was set-up and acquitted,” I correct her. A lie. But one everyone believed. Even the judge.
“You were found guilty and went to prison before being acquitted,” she insists.
“That I did.” I relax into the seat, making myself comfortable. “Point is, I was innocent.”
“I don’t care,” she says frankly. “But my student will not know what you were accused of. Is that clear?”
“I rarely like to mention my past.”
“Good. You are here because I want my girls to see they still have a chance. The fact that you are now a teacher is a way to tell the bad ones they can still turn good. Some of our girls have interminable criminal records. Show them that a bad apple can still be used to make jam.”
I’m not sure I’m a fan of her simile. And she sure has a very special way to treat her girls. But I’m here now. I took the job, and by doing that I chose to become a teacher in a school for rebellious girls. I’ve got to stick to it for now.
“However,” she relaxes in her seat and puts her hands together on the desk. “Here, at Holy Rose, we like to remind our girls that, should they go too far in disrespecting us, there are consequences.”
I cock a brow at her, wanting to force her to go further in her insinuation.
“Mr. Hayes.” She offers me a sadistic smile. “It does them good to scare them occasionally. I’m sure an ex-convict like you knows a thing or two about putting the fear into someone.”
I lean back as I observe her, putting an ankle over my knee. “Tell me. How do you put the fear into someone?”
“Oh,” she lets out a small, proud laugh. “Well, I’ve accrued quite a reputation over the years. The girls do not want to end up in my office, I can tell you that for certain.”
I understand she won’t tell me, but I’m now a little more sure that the cane resting between two walls in the far corner of her office isn’t for decoration.
Knowing she’s not going to get anything out of this topic, she moves onto something else. “There is a girl I want to warn you about. Her name is Haley Stewart.”
“Please,” I chuckle low. “Don’t tell me you’re about to warn me about a schoolgirl. I’ve seen more threatening things than that in my life.”
“I’m sure you have, but more cunning? I don’t know. She was put in this school by her parents in freshman year, and at the end of junior year, she escaped.” She pauses to see if I’m going to react and seems disappointed when I don’t. “It is practically impossible to escape Holy Rose.”
I wonder why one would need escaping at all. The word is a bit extreme. It’s just a school. Unless Moore is worse than she lets out.
“Practically being the keyword.” I smile sweetly. If that girl managed, it can’t be that hard.
Her eyes narrow at me slightly before she composes herself again.
“My point is, she was brought back on court order. Our girls can usually leave before eighteen even if they haven’t graduated. Once they’re not under their parents’ guardianship, it is their choice to make. That’s not the case for Miss Stewart. She’s eighteen, but her leaving is dependent on graduating, not her age.”
I shift in my seat, almost impressed by the girl. “Court order?”
Moore nods. “While she was out, she tried to stab a man. It was thought safer to keep her here until she graduates. We are, after all, specialists in handling these types of girls.”
She stabbed a man. Sounds like my kind of fun.
“So, she’s retaking her senior year now?”
“She is because she is still failing one class.” Her pointed look tells me everything I need to know.
“Let me guess. History.”
