Page 85 of Dante

“Of course. But timing is key. You won’t be able to submit your application until you have artwork ready. Artwork I approve. And you’ll need to submit it all before the deadline.”

“Then I better get started asap,” I say. “Thank you for your time.”

As promised, when I exit Chelsea is waiting for me outside his door.

“Good meeting?” she asks, reaching over to ruffle Biscotti’s fur as he rests in my arms.

“Very good.”

“Would you like to see the new cafeteria before you go? It was just unveiled. Designed by an interior design student as his master’s project.”

“Sure.”

“It’s art deco in style,” Chelsea says as she leads me to it.

“The Academy built a new cafeteria based on a student’s design?”

“That’s the magic of the Academy,” she says.

As soon as Chelsea opens the doors to the empty cafeteria, Biscotti yips sharply. He’s probably smelled food.

“Shh,” I tell him, feeding him a biscuit I tucked into my purse. “We’ll have lunch later.”

“Let me give him some water,” Chelsea says, filling a wide-mouthed glass at the water station. She puts it on the floor and he quickly laps it up.

“Come, let’s take a seat,” Chelsea says, leading me to a nearby table. “What’s your form of art?”

“Caricature. What’s yours?”

“Watercolor.”

We chat about art for a few minutes. Then Chelsea looks at her watch and rises.

“Well, if Biscotti’s finished, I have another appointment,” she says, looking toward the empty water container. “Wait. Where is he?”

“Biscotti!” I call, panic rising. We search the cafeteria and the hallway, but it’s as if he’s vanished.

“Could a student have taken him?” I ask, trying to keep calm.

“Possibly. But not likely. Is he a curious dog?”

“Very curious. That’s why I usually keep him in a carrier. Otherwise he’ll wander off.”

“Wait. I think I know where he might be.”

I follow Chelsea toward the end of the corridor where the floor gives way to yellow caution tape. I peer down and see rough stone steps descending into absolute darkness.

“The catacombs,” Chelsea whispers. “Remember what I said earlier? Dogs are attracted to this place for some reason.”

I step closer, inhaling the damp, cool air from below. “Do you think he went down?”

She nods. “A good possibility. Just last month, another student’s dog was found down there.”

“But what could they be smelling?”

Chelsea shrugs. “Who knows? Old bones?”

What a creepy thought.