CHAPTER5
The days passed, then weeks, months, years, until finally it seemed to Colin that the only home he had ever known was his narrow room in the Outer Banks Academy.
The original structure had been built in the fifties, in a style that befitted an institution with lofty ambitions. Carolina brick was buttressed with Appalachian granite, and more of that precious stone framed the tall windows and formed an archway over the entrance. Sojourn House, the residential hall for all the academy’s scholarship students, was a throwback to that very same era. The interior had been remodeled so as to quadruple the number of bedrooms, sixteen over the upper two floors. They were all single, all slightly larger than the small chamber he had known in Celeste’s home all those many nights ago. Every four rooms shared one bath. The downstairs held a computer room and television lounge and dining room and kitchen and office and Mrs. Fitzgerald’s apartment.
Edwina Fitzgerald was British and lived by the clock. And because she held the power to dismiss any student who didnot live up to her expectations, the children who resided in Sojourn House did likewise. They rose at seven, ate breakfast at seven-thirty, spent twenty minutes on morning chores, followed by studies, class, afternoon chores, study hall, then precisely ninety minutes of what Mrs. Fitzgerald called “downtime.” Dinner was followed by chores and a half hour of television, then study until lights out precisely at nine. She was a fearsome lady, given to precise diction and commands she would only utter once. The year Colin turned twelve, fourteen students lived in Sojourn House. He had never known a student to be kicked out. Just the same, they all lived in fear of it happening.
Though he actively despised the rules that encased and defined his daily life, he understood the reason. Most of the kids were from families too poor to ever consider granting their child a chance to study here. Many arrived with no sense of discipline whatsoever. The very concept of obeying rules astonished them.
Then there were the others.
They drifted through their days in a fog of their own making. And some had come from situations far worse than his own. Their nightmares and their screams woke Colin at least once a week. There was a night counselor who dozed in the office. His name was Grant, and he wore a pristine white shirt and trousers. He always took the stairs three at a time, reaching the frightened child in seconds. Colin would lie in his bed staring at the dark ceiling, listening to the man’s deep rumble as he calmed away the shadows. The next morning, no mention was ever made of nightmares or stained bedsheets or a child with deep purple bruises under their eyes. Mrs. Fitzgerald did not allow it.
That morning Colin was scheduled to miss his first class so as to meet his adviser. As usual he left the house by way of the kitchen door. Camila, the cook, was a small woman withknotted strength and a knowing gaze. She silently watched him cross the kitchen and depart.
Colin stopped at the edge of the house, where the building melded with trees separating the campus from US Highway 17. The rumbling of traffic had been part of his life for so long, he no longer even heard it. When no one was passing along the sidewalk, he stepped forward.
Outer Banks Academy resembled a small college campus. Behind the older buildings fronting Sir Tyler Drive was an oval green space, beyond which stood a trio of ultra-modern structures bearing the names of wealthy patrons.
He entered the middle building and climbed to the top floor. His adviser’s office was the third down on the left, facing back over the central gardens. Dr. Arnold Weinbrandt was a full-time faculty member now, handling tutorials and counseling. He shared a narrow antechamber with one of the teachers, but that door was closed, which meant Colin could sit and prepare himself for the meeting. Normally he let Arnold guide them through whatever process the school required. Their meetings had become almost perfunctory in that regard. Arnold reviewed the series of positive checks from his teachers, then offered a few words about where Colin was going next. Then they chatted about news events Colin didn’t understand. Sometimes they just played chess. But Arnold had specifically requested this meeting and indicated there were issues that needed to be resolved.
And then there was the other matter.
Over the past four months, Colin had been making secret plans. Elements that had nothing to do with the academy and everything to do with his own personal future. He wanted something that would mean breaking a lot of rules. Heneededthis. And he could not tell anyone why.
For the first time in years, he was frightened of what this meeting might hold.
The wall dividing the antechamber from Arnold’s office was paper thin, and the voices inside were very loud. Colin heard Arnold say, “This is the third time in a month you’ve left campus—”
“This isn’t a campus! It’s aprison!”
Colin instantly recognized the student’s voice. She was one of the school’s unofficial elite, the daughter of a local business tycoon and the glamorous former second wife. She was now being raised by mom number four. The man’s name adorned the wall above this building’s entryway. The girl was beautiful, spoiled, and …
Colin heard another woman’s voice say, “If this behavior continues, we will have no choice but—”
“But what? Expel me?” Her laugh held a distinctly musical tone. Everything about her was both confident and unpredictable. She had most of the older guys and some of the teachers watching her every move. She was fifteen years old. “Do that and see what happens to yourbuilding fund!”
The woman said, “We have no choice but to send you to detention—”
“No!I’m not staying asecondlonger in thisawful placethan I have to!”
“Kimberly, this situation is critical to your future—”
“The name isKimmie! And this meeting isover!”
The door slammed back and out she came. Blond hair and big-city bling and a too-short skirt and eyes that flashed on him with cold fury. “Hi there, Superfreak. Enjoy the show?”
When Colin entered the office, the woman seated beside Arnold said, “From the ridiculous to the sublime.”
“Hi, Colin.” Arnold Weinbrandt did his best to smile. “Come sit down. You know Sandrine, of course.”
Dr. Sandrine Powers, the new head of Outer Banks Academy, was a very attractive woman in her midthirties. Herown smile did not diminish the anger in her gaze. “How are you, Colin?”
“Fine.” But having her here was not good. So bad, in fact, he had to say, “I need to speak with Dr. Weinbrandt alone.”
She pretended to laugh. “I seem to be everybody’s favorite person today.”
Arnold said, “We have matters to discuss that require Sandrine’s presence.”
