Did you miss me, Shadow?
My jaw drops as I glance around again. Half the students are diligently taking notes while the other half are zoning out. I glance up to Professor Blackthorne, and he’s writing on the projector, completely unaware of the ghostly activity. I pick up my pen and write back underneath.
You disappear on me, and that’s the first thing you write?
I wait a moment and decide to add on.
Yes, I missedyou.
I feel a stroke over my shoulder and shiver slightly at Milly’s invisible affection. I nervously look around as the pen continues with another note.
Do forgive me for keeping you waiting. I simply needed to regain my strength.
I sigh and relax into myself, knowing she issafe. She continues.
I do quite enjoy this class. You really should give it the attention it deserves.
I snort at the note, and Professor Blackthorne shifts his gaze to me, lifting a brow with a slight scowl. My eyes widen at his attention, and I glance back down to see the pen resting on the desk innocently. I peek an eye back up to see him continuing his lectures, still holding my gaze with curiosity. The added annoyance on his face looks familiar, and I try to recall why. I pick up my pen and write back to Milly.
I think the professor is uncomfortable with me in this class. Maybe he agrees with the priest’s ideas.
The pen picks up immediately and scribbles quickly.
I would trust Professor Blackthorne over all the rest.
I scrunch my brows together, re-reading the sentence. I look up to him, still scowling at me, and I fidget under his gaze.
Are you sure about that? The glare says otherwise.
I tap my pen on the paper, waiting for Milly to liftand write a response, but nothing comes. I find myself staring at the paper, desperate for another note from her.
I sigh and eventually give up on her writing back. I try to do what Milly recommended: pay attention to the course. Professor Blackthorne continues to elaborate on how to build strong arguments, making more notes, and asking different students their thoughts. He always follows through with a question that rattles the student’s arguments. I keep my head down, taking notes in hopes that he doesn’t ask me for a topic to defend.
The hour passes by quicker than I expected as I bounce between doodling and recording various tips. He concludes the class, and I hear the fellow students starting to pack up their bags and talking to one another.
I stretch my back as I rip the paper out of my notebook. I add the note to my back pocket alongside the photographs that I can’t seem to leave my room without.
“Miss Gates, please remain in the classroom for a moment,” I hear Professor Blackthorne say across the room.
I swallow as I watch the other students glance at me with curiosity and pity.Wonderful.
I take my time putting all my school supplies back into my bag as my classmates file out of the room. I make my way to Professor Blackthorne, who is sitting at the desk with his arms crossed over his chest, watching me approach.
He waits a moment in silence, watching me squirm in anticipation of what he might say. “Were you passing notes in class, Miss Gates?” he asks abruptly, and I panic under the pressure.
“Uhm. No, I mean, no, I wasn’t.” I really need to work on my retorts; maybe this classwillpay off eventually.
He raises a brow at me and waits for me to continue to fumble as I bite my tongue and fidget under his scrutiny. “I was just writing down notes during class. I was doodling a little bit, and I apologize for that. Iwill pay better attention going forward.” I should’ve just kept my mouth shut. I look even more guilty rambling.
He lifts an eyebrow and stares at me, waiting for me to fumble and blurt out the truth. I wonder how often he gets what he wants out of others just from his gaze.
He drops his arms from his chest and stands up, leaning toward me with a soft voice, “Be careful, Miss Graves. Not everyone on this campus is as understanding as I am. Be discreet with your… friendships.”
I raise my brows at him in shock and quickly try to cover my reaction, replacing it with nonchalance. “I have no idea what you’re even talking about.” I laugh awkwardly.
He leans closer to me and squints his eyes at me. “You are not hidden in the shadows, Grace. More eyes are on you than you recognize.” Rage flushes through my blood, and my jaw drops as I glare at him. I know that lecturing tone.Motherfucker.
I take a step back, the rage promptly switching to shock. “Bones?” I whisper to him.
