Had her mother been having an affair? Had Svenson killed her? The room seemed to tilt as she processed what she’d just learned.
“Fuck.” Of course, she’d known there would probably be things in the sheriff’s report that she didn’t want to hear. Difficult things. Maybe even shocking things. Over the years, she’d considered as many possibilities for what happened to her mom as she could think of, everything from her father killing her to her mom falling victim to a random crime to her disappearing on purpose to live a life somewhere else without the burden of her family.
Charlotte closed her eyes. She remembered sitting at the kitchen table with her parents on weekend mornings, reading together. Riding their bikes through downtown Middleton. Walking from one parent’s office on the NU campus to the other between their classes.
They’d been an inseparable trio, or so Charlotte had thought. Yes, she’d considered that her mother might have had an affair. She’d done her best to considereverypossibility, but apparently she hadn’t taken this one seriously enough, because with the evidence in front of her now, Charlotte felt as if she’d been gut punched.
Maybe she’d never actually known her mother at all.
On Wednesday, Charlotte visited the one place she’d been avoiding since her return to Vermont: Northshire University. Even though she’d never been a student here, this campus held so many memories. As she passed the maple tree at the center of the quad, Charlotte saw herself as a little girl, climbing through its branches so she could sit and spy on the students as they walked below.
Today, salt crunched beneath her shoes, but the sidewalks were clear of last night’s snowfall. According to his schedule, Allan Svenson was teaching until two. She planned to catch him as his class let out, having decided not to forewarn him that she was coming. She’d alwaysthought you could learn a lot by watching people in those unscripted moments when they were caught off guard.
Charlotte drew in a steadying breath as Wallis Hall came into view. Her eyes were drawn to the last window on the second floor, her mom’s old office. Her gaze dropped to the stretch of concrete beneath that window. A black bike rack stood there now, but in her mind’s eye, she saw the makeshift memorial set up after her mom’s disappearance, a cluster of flowers, stuffed animals, cards, and other offerings left by students and colleagues.
Just as clearly, she remembered the candlelight vigil held there in her mom’s honor. So many people had attended, staring at Charlotte and asking if she was all right. She hadnotbeen all right, not then and certainly not now as she prepared to confront the man who might have been having an affair with her mom when she vanished.
Had he killed her?
After another fortifying breath, she entered Wallis Hall, lost for a moment as nostalgia crashed over her. She’d spent so many hours here as a child. She shook off the urge to gawk, instead making her way down the corridor to a large lecture hall at the end. Svenson was just finishing up a class about military history. Charlotte had a sinking feeling that she might have watched her mom teach in this very room. It was theworstkind of nostalgia.
Ugh.
She hated this, and she wasn’t even sure why. Obviously, it sucked to confront Svenson, but her emotions felt bigger than that. Being back in this building had shaken her more than she’d anticipated. She almost expected to turn around and see her mother walking down the hall toward her.
Tears pricked behind her eyes, and she blinked, forcing them back.
Before she could spiral any further, the double doors in front of her swung open, and students began to spill into the hallway, backpacks slung over their shoulders. Many of them were in the processof putting on coats and hats in preparation for the winter weather outside.
Charlotte stood out of the way until the majority of students had exited the lecture hall. Then she stepped through the open door before she could overthink it. A tall, slim white man stood at the front of the room, talking with two students. He was probably in his mid-sixties, with gray hair that receded slightly in the front.
She walked down the aisle toward him, her stomach tight. No, she wasn’t looking forward to this, but it had to be done. The students he’d been talking to turned to leave, and he looked right at Charlotte. Her lungs seized because sheknewthis man. His face was undeniably familiar to her, and based on the way his eyebrows rose, he recognized her too.
“I’m Charlotte Danton,” she said, just in case she was reading too much into his expression. “I was hoping to talk to you for a few minutes.”
“Terri’s daughter.” His posture seemed stiffer than it had been when she first walked into his classroom. Was he about to blow her off?
She nodded in answer to his question.
“You look so much like her.” His eyes softened, and he reached for the briefcase on the lectern beside him. “Let’s go to my office. We can talk there.”
“Thank you.” She fell into step behind him as he led the way out of the lecture hall, turning off the lights and then closing the door behind them. As they walked toward the stairs, she wondered if Marin was here today. She only taught a few days a week, but right now Charlotte couldn’t remember which days. Her brain had turned into an anxious mess.
Svenson led her up two flights to the third floor. He unlocked the door to his office and motioned her in ahead of him. She stepped into a small room that smelled vaguely of old books. Unsurprisingly, the large bookshelf behind his desk was packed full of them.
“I didn’t know you were back in Vermont,” he said from behind her.
“I didn’t know you knew anything about where I lived?” She turned to face him, wanting to hate this man and not even sure why. For all she knew, he’d brought some joy to her mother’s life, not that she wanted to consider any aspect of her mom’s love life.
He shrugged, gesturing for her to take one of the guest chairs in front of his desk. “Your mother was very popular in the department. A lot of us wanted to know how you were after her disappearance. People talk, that’s all.”
Charlotte resisted the urge to claw at her arms. Her skin was literallycrawlingwith discomfort right now. “I left after high school. I just came back last fall.”
He settled in the leather chair behind the desk. “I’m sure your dad’s glad to have you back in town.”
“I’m not sure you of all people should be talking about my dad.” The words came out harsher than she’d intended, and Svenson flinched.
“Fair enough. I guess you’ve heard a few things about me too.” He looked down at his hands, hiding his expression from her.
