Dark Turns Read Online Free PDF Page B

sit-down with the big boss.
    By the time she reached the registration office, sweat beaded beneath the tight bun affixed, like a button, to the top of her head. It dripped behind her ear and on her forehead. Her underarms felt damp.
    She dabbed at the perspiration on her face with her sweater sleeve. Nia regretted not bathing for the umpteenth time. An hour of dance instruction followed by a half hour of dragging a bum foot across campus in eighty-degree weather would make anyone sweat. Still, she doubted Stirk would give her appearance a pass. The woman took pains to look proper.
    Nia entered the building and ascended a wide staircase that led to an open second floor. The architecture reminded her of a television courthouse. Greek columns framed a waist-high bronze banister, enabling visitors to look over the railing at the checkered tile below.
    She scanned navy walls and white wainscoting for an office. Bright white double doors marked the center of the room. A bronze plaque mounted above them read Stirk’s full name and title: Martha Elayne Stirk, Dean of Students and Faculty, Principal of Academics.
    A secretary’s desk stood outside the dean’s office. The accompanying chair sat empty, as did the blue upholstered seats pressed against the banister. Nia hesitated before knocking and then went ahead, rapping firmly on the door. She didn’t need to sit outside. She’d been summoned.
    The knock reverberated in the high ceilings. A voice came from behind the closed doors. “It’s open.”
    Nia stepped inside like a mouse peeking from a hole in the wall, unsure of what she’d find. The office looked like a formal living room. French blue walls. More wainscoting. A pair of linen chesterfield sofas flanked a dark blue Persian rug with a white-and-pink starburst pattern at its center. Atthe far end of the room, Dean Stirk sat behind a masculine, mahogany desk.
    The dean looked over the top of her frameless glasses. Her gray-and-blond bob shook around her cheekbones. “Ms. Washington. Good. My secretary delivered my note.”
    The dean put down a pen atop an open book in front of her and gestured to one of two slipper chairs facing her desk.
    “Please shut the door behind you.”
    With the door closed, Nia realized how cold Stirk kept her office. Air conditioning blasted from vents in the floor and the ceiling. Her sweat turned icy against her skin. She pulled her sweater tighter around her chest and sat on the edge of the indicated chair.
    The dean folded her hands atop her book. “You’re a new teacher here. So I wanted to make you aware of the school policies relevant to yesterday’s incident.”
    Incident . Was that what the dean was calling a student’s death?
    “We here at Wallace have a duty, not only to individual students, but also to the well-being of the school community as a whole. As such, we must handle any issue involving law enforcement with the utmost caution and care.”
    The dean paused, waiting for some kind of agreement. Nia nodded. “Of course.”
    “Tragically, the young woman whom you discovered yesterday was a returning student. Lauren Turek was fifteen and would have been a sophomore this year. Her parents have been notified.”
    “I’m so sorry.”
    Stirk cleared her throat. “Yes. We all are very sorry for her loss and our sympathies are with her family.”
    The dean removed her glasses and folded them on top of her desk. She leaned forward until her shoulders hoveredabove the book. Her body language said the time for pleasantries had ended.
    “The police have not yet determined the cause of Lauren’s death. We must take care not to speculate and unnecessarily alarm the student body or parents.”
    Nia shifted uncomfortably, glad she’d kept quiet when Alexei had asked about Lauren’s body.
    The dean cast another grave look across the desk. “Unfortunately, I am aware that Mr. Turek’s grief-stricken actions have spurred discussion of his daughter’s death as a homicide or a