Gray pin-striped suit. Pocket square. He must have had fancy meetings scheduled. For a while he just studied Cal, pinching his lips up and then relaxing them again.“Are you depressed?”Cal blinked. “What? I don’t know. Probably. Isn’t everyone?”Clearly that wasn’t the answer Roger was looking for. He reached back on his desk and picked up a piece of paper. His office was just as devoid of personality as his door—his walls were blank except for a few college posters, touches of humanity probably added by staffers and not Roger himself.“I have an email here from Professor Reyes,” Roger announced, waving the paper around. Cal groaned inwardly. “She said you showed up on time last night—good, good—and then you ‘grew agitated and insisted on leaving early.’ Care to explain?”“Did you seriously go to the trouble of printing that out?” Cal asked.“I’m not rising to this today. I simply refuse to.” He put down the email and clasped his hands loosely in his lap.
