Professor Domsworth stood facing the blackboard, writing and lecturing simultaneously. The students seated in the first couple of front rows carefully took down every word he wrote. Those seated in the middle were half awake and taking down a word or two whenever they felt necessary. Those in the back were whispering back and forth to each other, far from focused on Domsworth's lecture.
Virginia was seated at her desk in the back row. She stared at her open notebook; not a single word was written on its page. For all she cared, she was not even in the room. She did not hear the voices around her or the nasal congested speech of her professor. Smiling, she reflected only on the ride to school this morning. She got to talk with Charles more than she ever had before. She learned that he was, in fact, Native American by birth and that his ancestry traced back to this very location centuries ago, but when he asked her about her life in Miami, she kept silent. She did not know what to say or how to say it. Graciously, he did not press the matter.
She sank back in her chair and played with the zipper at the end of her jacket. Why didn't I tell him? Should I tell him?
Her eyes stared down at her backpack leaning beside her desk as her attention drifted away from the classroom even more. But Uncle Andrew and the Miami police said not to talk to anyone about what happened. If too much is spoken, it could become very bad. But that doesn't make sense; Uncle Andrew told Professor Domsworth about what happened…but then again, he's my teacher and needs to be on alert. It's not like my classmates know what happened…do they?
She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. But this is Charles! I can trust him, though, right?
She leaned her head back and reflected upon how he was the first to befriend her on her first day at Mason High. He noticed me. He listened to me.
She snuggled up in the jacket he gave her. He gave me warmth when I was cold.
She replayed the scene when he opened the door for her. Now, what guy has done that for me besides my own uncle?
She looked to her right into space. Should I tell him what happened?
A squad car pulled up into the school parking lot. Disguised as two police officers, Dark Cry and Aniatha got out of the vehicle. Leaving the engine running, they walked up to the main entrance of Mason High. Once inside, they took a left and walked down the main hallway with Dark Cry leading the way. Then, they turned right and went down another hall.
"This way," said Dark Cry.
Virginia chewed on the end of her pencil. I think it would be okay. After all, he has been trusted with so much already. Uncle Andrew trusts him, too—he even allowed him to drive me to school this morning.
She tapped the lead end of her pencil upon her notebook, leaving scattered faint little dots upon its page. I believe I can trust him. He deserves to know the truth.
Resting his head in his hand, Principal Jefferson sat in his office, reviewing some very stressful paperwork scattered over his desk.
There was a knock on his door.
"Come in," he said without looking up.
Mrs. Millway, his secretary, opened the door. "I'm so sorry to bother you, Principal Jefferson, but there are two police officers outside who need to talk to you about a student suspected of a crime."
Jefferson raised his eyebrows and lifted his head. "Show them in."
Mrs. Millway stood aside and allowed the two cops to enter Jefferson's office. Jefferson stood at their approach and extended his hand.
"Hello, Officers," he said. "Principal Jefferson."
Dark Cry shook his hand firmly. "Pleasure to meet you, sir. I'm Officer McBride, and this is my partner, Officer O'Brian."
Jefferson shook the young woman's hand also. "Please, please. Have a seat. Can I interest you in some coffee, perhaps?"
Dark Cry held out his hand. "Oh, no, sir. We are fine."
"Very well then."
Jefferson held his hands together, lacing his fingers in between each other and placing them on his desk. "Now, it is my understanding that you both feel that a student in my school is possibly involved in a crime; is that correct?"
"We have reason to believe so, yes, sir."
"And what would have led you to assume this, might I ask?"
"Last night, Officer McBride and I were following through with an assignment we've been working on for weeks undercover. You might remember a large meth lab that was discovered just outside town?"
Jefferson frowned. "Yes! It was such a shock to the town that someone close to your home, someone you most possibly knew and grew up with, was creating such a catastrophe."
"Our thoughts exactly, sir. If you will recall, when we raided the lab, we were able to catch and arrest some of those involved, but the rest of the culprits escaped."
"Yes. Yes, I remember hearing about that."
"Well, sir, not everything is lost because we did catch two of them. Unfortunately, they aren't talking much; however, we got a name from one of them, the name of one of their dealers. Our intelligence has dug further into this and confirmed that the dealer's name has come up through some recovered evidence found in the location of the meth lab."
"And you have reason to believe this dealer could be one of my students?"
Dark Cry extended his hand empathetically. "Sir, believe me, I wish with everything in me that this is all a misunderstanding and that we are wrong. Nevertheless, with the amount of evidence presented in addition to the testimony from one of the culprits already in custody, we have no other choice but to question the student ourselves."
"And what is the name of this suspected dealer?"
A faint smile crossed Dark Cry's face. "Virginia Singerman."