“Punch him in the face.”
Shit. I wanted to.
“You once told me that Sebastian hasn’t spoken because he’s afraid of something. Do you still believe that?”
“I do, yes. Whether it’s a mental barrier he’s frightened of or a physical entity, I’m uncertain. Though if I was, I still wouldn’t be at liberty to share that with you.”
“But you would be required,by law, to report Sebastian if you thought he may harm himself?”
My heart lurched. “Does Sebastian have a history of self-harm?”
“Not that I’m aware of, but we can never be too careful.” He clasped his hands together and offered me a smile I wanted to rip right off his face.
What the fuck was this man playing at?
“Furthermore, you’d be required to report whether Sebastian admitted to harming someone else?”
“I’m sorry, Headmaster, are you…” I shook my head. “Are you suggesting you believe Sebastian killed his roommate?”
“No, Sebastian isn’t capable of murder.”
“I agree, so forgive me but I’m still not sure why you’re here.”
He rubbed his palm along his jaw, exhaling slowly.
“It’s a very punchable face.”
It was, and for a moment, I let myself consider what it’d feel like to sucker punch this man. Adrenaline tore through me and my pulse jumped. My knuckles nearly ached to be split open… but I couldn’t.
Not yet, anyway.
“Mr. Hayes, I believe Sebastian knows the truth about what happened to Foster Lake and his refusal to speak is because he’s protecting that truth.”
“You’re suggesting Sebastian is protecting the person who murdered his best friend? Hisonlyfriend.”
Arthur shrugged, and I had to bite my tongue to hold back my laugh of disbelief.
For fuck’s sake.
There was a fine line between delusion and intelligence, and Arthur seemed to tow the very edges of it. He was sharp—patient in a cunning way. Reckless enough to ask questions but ambiguous enough that nobody could connect his dots.
I almost wanted to applaud him for how well he’d camouflaged his cruelty, painting himself in war-paint and bullshit. For years, I’d been face to face with some of the world’s most hardened men, and what I saw then was being replicated now.
Mercilessness.
Animosity.
Hatred.
Desperation…
Arthur made claims of wanting to protect his son, but I was familiar with the smell of bullshit, and all this man wanted to protect was himself… and this godforsaken school.
“I’m not sure I understand your concern, sir. You’ve made it quite clear that investigators ruled Foster’s death as accidental. Has Sebastian expressed anything differently to you?”
“He hasn’t, no.” Arthur ran his tongue along his teeth. His eyes swept the floor, and I saw the way they twitched, calculating the most proper response. “Perhaps, I’m just projecting my own fears as a father onto the investigation. Sebastian has always been… spineless. Self assurance is not a trait he possesses, and I’m worried with the target on his back, it’s only going to get worse.”
“The target meaning the rumors, the nickname, and the vandalism?”