Eternal: Chapter Five, Part 4

The woman scuttled down the narrow hallway and up a few flights of stairs. Our progress was slow, giving me plenty of time to glance over the various pictures hanging on the walls. This was a fairly old school, from the years on some of the class photographs and the style of dress in the presidential portraits. One of the older class photos I saw was from the early 1900’s.

Eventually we walked into an office like space that reminded me more of a private study with its soft lighting and worn leather furniture. For a moment, I remembered my dad’s study, the times we had spent locked away from the world in there, reading and talking. It surfaced warm memories before my last memory of him tainted them with guilt.

After flipping through a file she had pulled, the woman informed me Mikael was finishing up with baseball practice and would then be heading to supper. “I hope you will be comfortable waiting for about an hour or so. We pride ourselves on keeping student schedules as uninterrupted as possible,” she said, the vinegar in her honeyed voice beginning to seep through. “Is there anything I can bring you, Miss Jones? Supper? Tea? Biscuits? Cake? A muffin?”

“Water will be fine, thank you,” I assured her, trying not to take offense to the mass amount of food she was trying to offer me. Did she think there was something wrong with me? Everyone kept saying I looked different, but I hadn’t looked in a mirror lately—I hadn’t felt compelled to.

“You’re certain that’s all?” she pressed annoyingly. “Nothing to eat at all?”

“I’m certain, thank you” I said kindly, struggling to keep my face neutrally kind and appreciative.

Leaning closer to me, she whispered, “You’re not…anorexic, are you?” Her dark eyes were wide and questioning, something in them revealing how desperately she wanted me to assent.

“No. My eating habits are completely normal, thank you.” Was I that thin?

Straightening herself, she smiled as she had when she first greeted me. “Delighted to hear it. We do try to keep…unnatural influences from the boys.”

If only she knew how ironic that statement was. “Of course.”

“This way, then,” she announced, leaving the office for a small sitting room down the hall. She stalled a moment after bringing me a bottle of water, as if waiting for me to tell her something that would give her enough reason to excuse me. It made me wary about what kind of place this was that she had to assure me everything was in the interest of the boys. I hoped Mikael was as well as I had perceived him to be outside.