It’s the first time since I started admiring him months ago that his vehicle isn’t parked outside his place in the early morning hours. My stomach turns when I notice, but convince myself he has an appointment to get the damage checked out. Nothing’s wrong. He’s fine. And campus is quiet. Too quiet. Hannah and Bridgette, along with half of my students, are absent from class. Everyone’s grieving. Hannah lost Luke as well as Margaret. Bridgette lost her freedom. Dan’s distraught about the Cherokee. I’m suffering from anxiety about shifting my furnishings and the entire campus is in mourning. It’s no big surprise when a storm rolls in and the sky turns grey. Seems fitting for such a downer of a day. I stare out my office window at Margaret’s building. It twists and fluxes through the heavy drops of rain splattering the glass, and at times, the water running down makes the home economics haven look as if it’s melting. “Divine?” My door’s wide open and Richard’s voice behind me is no surprise.
