“She would have said it directly to his face,” I said.
Daniel almost laughed.
It was the first real laugh I had heard from him in years, and it sounded so much like his mother that I had to look down at the paper for a moment.
“Yeah,” he said.
“She absolutely would have.”
Outside, the morning was grey and mild.
The roses in the garden were still.
And across the city, I later found out, Professor Holt had already received a message from Dr.
Dr.
Marsh’s office was on the third floor of the main faculty building.
I had walked past it dozens of times during my four years without ever going in.
She stood when I entered and shook my hand firmly.
“Thank you for coming in, Mr.
Calloway.
Please sit down.”
The office was orderly.
Books on three walls.
A single window looking out over the campus quad.
