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“What the hell could she have been prepared for when none of this could have been foreseen? It really is very difficult to get ready for the things you don’t see coming, Mr. Alden.”
A stray thought occurred to her as she was speaking. She still had no idea what to call this man. The appellation she was using was familiar, a security blanket against the dangers of the truth, that he wasn’t just aMisterto her anymore. But the fact that he had always been present in her life, but removed enough to require her to address him with the title ‘Mister’ burned like acid, and she knew she’d bite her tongue off before she called him anything else.
She panted, the words rolled off her tongue, and utterly exhausted her with each and every sound that left her lips. Her temper had gotten the better of her once again, but it had also completely wiped her out.
“You waited a year. Yet you started showing up a lot more three months ago…”
He smiled at her through his tears, and that smile had so much pride, Sam wanted to turn away from it. Or maybe slap him. Because he had no right to be proud of her. No right at all.
“I always told Tullinger you were too smart by far, Sam. Too smart. I had a heart attack six months ago. Screwed up my campaign schedule. But also gave me a bit of a different perspective. My boys are gone, my wife is gone. Your mother is gone. You are all that I have left. I’m an old man, my heart is weak, my life is ending, and I am all alone. You are all I have.”
Sam shook her head and slowly got off the examination table. God, of all the stupid places to have this conversation, they had to have it at Franz’s clinic, where the whole waiting room had probably heard them. What was it with this island that you just couldn’t get any privacy anywhere?
“Samantha, wait—”
“Yeah, we are done with this conversation, Mr. Alden. I have no idea what you expect of me.”
“Then tell me what you expect of me! Please.” This was perhaps the one correct thing he’d said since he’d opened his mouth today.
“You said you’d help? You’d make sure Magdalene remains Headmistress?”
“Yes.” His voice was unwavering this time. As if he had absolute assuredness that he’d make it happen. Who knew, maybe his dogged determination could withstand the self-righteous storm of complete awfulness Joel would unleash on them all.
“And the school?”
“Sam, I’m an extremely wealthy man. And if my millions don’t suffice, believe me, there are people who owe me, the former Governor of Massachusetts, a favor or two.”
“Funny how you were ready to let the school shrivel up and die just a few months ago, with the endowment being almost bankrupt. And suddenly there you are, so adamant to save the very institution you damn near ruined.”
“I don’t care about the school, Samantha. Not even a little. It was a chore my father thrust on me in his will, and his father had passed on to him in his. But if helping the school will make you stop looking at me like you hate me, I’ll do anything to make that happen.”
Well, this was something at least. He was a selfish man, Sam thought as she opened the door without looking back and stepped into the crowded waiting room where Magdalene sat, graceful as ever on a beat-up chair. But even selfish men had their uses. And they needed both his influence and his funds like never before right now.
23
Of Burned Fingertips & Hero Felines Yet Again
With only ten of the twenty seniors choosing to spend the year at the makeshift version of Dragons, and thus requiring less faculty, the renovated facility easily held the twenty-something people who were staying and persevering amongst the chaos of the burnt-out Main Hall. The grounds were strewn with debris and torn apart by the construction crews that had descended upon it in the past week.
The logistics for the remaining people were quickly set in motion, and Magdalene was dedicating her days and sometimes her nights to try and find places for the girls who were now home with their parents and for the faculty who were not needed for the seniors still at Dragons.
Sam had taken Doctor Franz’s strict orders to heart and stayed in bed. Whatever miracle had been at work that had allowed her to walk away from a collapsed wooden staircase with only minor scrapes, she knew she was extremely lucky. They all were. The stitched bump on her head, the skin off Magdalene’s hands, and the tip of Willoughby’s tail were the extent of the injuries. Even Lily and Amanda had gotten off without any lasting damage from the smoke inhalation and were currently decorating their new rooms with things their parents had sent them from home.
Lily had pretty much been glued to Sam’s side the first couple of days after the fire, leaving Sam’s new quarters only to get some sleep, and even then protesting loudly that she would make do with the chair in the corner. Sam initially didn’t have the heart to send her away. The girl had been through a traumatic experience, and yet here she was, caring for Sam. It never ceased to amaze her how big Lily’s heart was. Big enough to encase the world.
She would have made good on her proposal to sleep in the corner too, watching over Sam at night, if it wasn’t for Magdalene coming in late, tired and obviously surprised to find Lily curled up on the chair, reading The Light Princess out loud to a mostly dozing Sam.
“Just saying, teach, this fairytale stuff is kinda cool. Like, I can totally see you being the prince. Cause you’re a klutz and nerdy, but you got the full-on heroic vibe going. Charge into burning buildings to save the princess.”
“Lils, with all due respect, you and Amanda are totally princesses, but you are so not my princesses.”
“Well, duh! Cause Hottie McHot—”
“That’s Headmistress McHot to you, Ms. Easterly.” Magdalene’s soft quiet voice held a note of amusement, but both Lily and Sam jumped about a foot in the air at the interruption.
“Ah, what are you doing here, Headmistress?” Sam tried to play it cool. Yes, they’d agreed that they would no longer hold back, would no longer pretend, but Sam was still rather cautious about not giving away too much in front of people. Everything was still so new, so fragile.
“I’m here to retire for the night, darling. Any objections?” Clearly, Magdalene had no such compulsion for caution. Which was par for the course. Once this woman made a decision, she was all in, damn the torpedoes.
