Chapter 45
forty-five
“Let’s eat!” Mom says, a little frenzied.
“I don’t think I can…” I say, losing my appetite.
“Nonsense. I’m sure Olivia wants some lunch. Brunch? Well, Mimosas.” She threads her arm through Olivia’s and leads her from the room. “If I can’t drink, then please down it for both of us.”
Dad hangs back for a moment, then shrugs. “Let’s grab some food, then talk in the office.”
“I’m not leaving Olivia out of this conversation.”
Dad’s eyes crinkle with his smile. “And I wouldn’t expect you to.”
In the overly ornate dining room, where we rarely eat, the chef has laid out a ton of food. And buckets of champagne on ice. Like there’s a house full of guests.
“Grab whatever you want, Olivia. As I told Valen, our chef is yours, so if you two don’t want to camp out in that ruined mansion, feel free to pop up and grab stuff from the pantry or ask Chef to prepare something,” Mom says. Like a normal human.
I feel better. Things went well. At least for their first meeting. Not so much for the announcement.
“Thank you. I may take you up on that, if that’s okay. The place already feels like home, but it gets loud with the construction,” Olivia says.
“We can always stay in the guest—”
“Cottage, I know. But…” she softly protests with a smile at me.
“It’s not home,” Mom says with a nod of solidarity. Home is everything to my mom, seeing as she rarely leaves our land. “Why would I? I have everything here.” she always says.
But I think she holds a lot of fear about what’s beyond the walls. And given where she started from, I don’t blame her.
The food is good. My parents hold decent conversations with my appointed. Dad keeps silent for the most part. Mom does her mimicking thing, where she pretends to like everything Olivia does. She’s not doing it to be mean; it’s just how she was trained.
Olivia doesn’t catch on, so it seems to go over well. They become fast friends by the end of the second slice of pizza.
Once we tell them about the night before, glossing over certain details parents shouldn’t have to know, we delve into formulating more plans.
“I need to know who the bartender is,” I tell Dad.
He nods toward one of the back halls. “Let’s go into the office now that we’re finished. Ladies? With us?”
“Yes,” Olivia says, tossing her napkin onto the empty plate.
In my father’s stately study, Mom perches on an ancient French cream credenza and crisscrosses her legs. Olivia gazes up at the ornate painted ceiling, mouth agog. I flop onto the stuffy Louis XVI Robin’s egg-blue sofa, stomach filled with food.
Dad pulls up his computer screen on one of the large monitors hanging on the wall. “This is it. This is what we have on his hiring record.”
He shows us a spreadsheet with the names, phone numbers, addresses, parents’ names, email addresses, birthdays, heights and weights of all staff employed by the president. Color-coordinated in different bands across the screen based on role. Cooks. Waitstaff. Cleaners. Bartenders…
There’s only one bar blank. It’s highlighted in gray. Almost as if someone wanted it to be invisible. In fact, the only thing that the row contains is three letters under “Name”:
GNU
“Graduate of Northview University?” Olivia asks.
“Global Network Unicode?” I guess…
“Galactic Neutering Unit.” Mom says it with such confidence, and we all turn to look at her. Her freckles glow when she blushes crimson. “Perhaps an alien species sent to destroy the Seven… Ha! Just…just joking.”
She’s not. But I glance over at Olivia, who smiles appreciatively in amusement. She’ll have to get used to us. At least all my brothers and sisters aren’t here to make it even more chaotic now that they all live on campus.
“Do we think that’s him?” I ask.
Dad nods. “It has to be. I’ve gotten the photographs of everyone else. Here…” He pulls up a dossier of the employees, and none is the guy who served Olivia her drinks.
Shifting in his seat, he grabs his phone and holds up a finger to make us wait. “They’re making another announcement. This is…fast.”
I snag the remote and flip it to the TV so we can hear what the university has to say.
The same dean is on, but this time, he holds up an arm and waves in a woman with a brunette blunt bob haircut, dressed in a purple skirt suit.
Behind her are a tall man with glasses and two teenage girls, smiling broadly for the camera.
Dad’s jaw tightens.
“We now welcome Dr. Leigh Damon as the interim president of Northview University. Her family founded this city, and who better to lead us than one of their own? President Damon?”
My eyes snap to Dad’s. He’s uncomfortable. I don’t know much about the Damons, other than they’re more reclusive at meetings than my father is.
“I need to look into her,” Dad says, low under his breath.
The woman confidently strides to the podium, and part of me relaxes. Perhaps we’ve been overreacting, and now those who made the university will take it back from the societies that have been running it for years.
“Thank you to the board for their confidence in my abilities and their votes. Until we appoint a permanent president, I’m happy to serve Northview as a university and community.”
She continues with a long speech incorporating boring history for a while, and then glances at her notes on the podium before lifting her head to speak directly into the camera.
“There are those who have defied the laws of this important institution. The guidelines are appointed for the betterment of all of us. Rules are made for everyone’s safety…
But if you’re not doing anything wrong, you have nothing to be concerned about.
Fear is only for the guilty, and at Northview University, we will make sure every single student is safe and unafraid. ”
My heart pounds harder, and I lose a breath. Olivia visibly shakes until I hold her in my arms. Mom reaches over and takes her hand, offering a look of solidarity.
As if in a last warning, the new president’s piercing brown eyes capture the camera as she states, “Even if this requires tightening the regulations so that everyone complies.”
She finishes with a bright smile, and the press claps around her as if it’s the best thing they’ve heard.
“My father texted. He’s worried,” Olivia says, glancing at her phone.
Dad clears his throat and nods. “I think we all are.”
“What does she mean? More regulation?”
“I’m going down there to pay her a visit,” Mom spits out with vitriol, then grabs a shotgun from the back of the radio cabinet nearby. “This is it, Cal. Let’s go. Down there right now.”
Dad rushes to her and gives me a sharp look. “I’ll go to more meetings. We’ll figure this out. But you understand the best way to take this type of situation down is…”
“From the inside,” I say, swallowing roughly.
He gets her to set down the gun and snaps his finger at me to go out to the hall. I pull Olivia with me as she studies her family’s group text.
As soon as we’re out of earshot, Dad scolds me.
“She’s pregnant—with twins. Let her calm down, and I’ll talk to you later.
Without her there.” He straightens my shoulders and looks me square in the eyes.
“We… I can’t be involved. Not this time, my son.
This is on you all. This is your battle to win. ”
I nod, just as he embraces me tightly. Then, I grab Olivia’s hand and head toward the back doors.
He’s right, though. This is our fight. Our parents can help, but ultimately, we need to take control of our future.
Olivia grabs our coats, and we bundle up, heading out into the misty afternoon. We walk in silence for a long while until we reach our mansion’s ruined back wall. Olivia pauses for a moment and glances up at the turrets crumbling over while chewing on her bottom lip.
“Did we just make things a lot worse with what we did?” she whispers, the sound almost blending with the wind.
To be honest, I don’t know how to answer her.
But the heavy pit in my stomach already has.