Crescent Wolves - G. Bailey Page 0,56

eventually ending up in the academic building, and begin to prowl the halls, uneasy as I look for Silas. I send him a couple more texts as I go, both of which go unread. The academic building might as well be deserted on a day like this, and it soon becomes clear that I’m not going to find him here.

Feeling a lump forming in my throat, I wander back outside, scanning the quad once more for any sign of Silas. There’s none to be found. Horrible scenarios are already drifting through my mind, and all of them revolve around what he told me last night. Is it paranoid to wonder if someone saw him in Mrs. Fairbanks’ office? And what about his speculation that his parents were killed because of their suspicions? The campus suddenly doesn’t feel as safe as it once did, the tall doors and yawning corridors seeming to glare down at me everywhere I turn.

My feet are taking me in the direction of the faculty offices before I’m really even aware of it. I’m gripping my phone until my knuckles turn white, my eyes flitting in every direction as I go. I want--no, need--to talk to someone. It’s as I’m passing the registrar’s office that I notice Mrs. Fairbanks isn’t at her desk. Could she have stepped out for something? I pause at the door, peering in, my eyes drawn toward the large file cabinet in the back of the room. Could there be more information there that Silas didn’t see? Would it be worth looking to see if there’s something on my parents?

But a familiar voice snaps me out of it. “Millie? What are you doing in here?”

I turn around to see Samantha watching me from just outside the door. How long has she been there? “I, ah…” I swallow. “Listen, Samantha, I--” I lean in closer to her, and my eyes must betray my panic, since she looks a little taken aback at my expression. “I think Silas Aconite might be missing,” I tell her, the words sounding ridiculous even as I say them.

She frowns. “Why would you think that?”

“He wasn’t in the dorms today,” I say, talking quickly. “I’ve already looked everywhere on campus for him, and there’s been no sign of him anywhere. Everyone’s saying he didn’t come to bed last night.”

Samantha’s eyes dart up and to the left for just a moment before her expression softens and she chuckles. “It’s all right, Millie. Silas is fine.”

“Really?” I stare at her. “Where is he?”

“He was admitted to the infirmary earlier this morning,” Samantha replies. “Stomach problems, I think.”

I blink. Part of me wants to believe her, but the other part is hung up on her brief hesitation before she answered me. “Is he okay?”

“Yes, he’ll be fine,” Samantha says, giving me a thin smile. She doesn’t say anything else.

“Can I see him?”

“No,” she says, a little harshly. “Sorry, Millie,” she adds. “It’s against school rules.”

“Since when? I thought students were allowed to visit the infirmary.”

“They are, most of the time,” she replies. “But it’s our policy to keep students with unknown conditions isolated from the rest of the school. I’m sure you can understand, given how… on edge everyone has been, lately.”

“Unknown condition?” My eyes narrow. “I thought you said he was having stomach problems.”

“I… yes,” she says. “Yes, stomach problems. But we don’t know what caused them,”

There’s a pause.

“I want to speak to President Hawthorne.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” says Samantha.

“Why not?” I demand, face flushing. “Is he suddenly not taking visitors?”

“There’s no need to get angry,” Samantha says, her patience unnerving. “President Hawthorne is a very busy man, and this isn’t a matter of concern to him.”

“What do you mean, it’s not a matter of concern?” I ask desperately. “What aren’t you telling me? Where’s Silas?” I can feel my heart hammering in my chest as we size each other up for a moment. Part of me wants to push further, but another part already knows it would be a waste of time. She knows something, I think. There’s something she’s not telling me. Samantha just keeps watching me with that unnerving look on her face, to the point where my shoulders slump and I let out a defeated sigh. “I guess I’ll just wait for him to get better, then.”

“You should do that,” says Samantha, still with that wan smile on her face. “And Millie,” she adds as I turn to go, “you should really relax. It looks like the