~Finley~
"You understand how important this is? You understand the gravity of our situation?"
"Yes sir." But for some reason, I was hesitant.
He saw my hesitance through and through. "Ms Munsinger and I have talked and she has allowed us to use her school. It is to educate all of Vixen Vale's population about what we are truly facing; the beginnings of a gang that is steeply getting dangerous. And we have already assumed that these stunts are not the doings of a matured adult. The suspects are teenagers."
"So I am going to do a lecture at Newbourne College since a majority of the teenage students from Vixen Vale go there," I finished, "And I'm guessing this will be streaming live at all schools, right?"
"Yes."
"You told Ethan?"
"Yes. You will be assisting him in the lecture." He pauses. "Have your antenna up for any suspicious business."
"Will do. But why are we doing this?"
"People are getting impatient and the media wants answers," he sighs, "We can't afford any bad publicity."
Our talk gave me a sense of pride. It cemented the fact that I actually was working on a big case in the sleepy metropolis of Vixen Vale. This might be one of the biggest cases in Vixen Vale history!
But small steps first.
Small steps like revisiting my old school and lecturing. Newbourne has barely changed. The big Greek sphinx statue in front of the school still glares intimidatingly for answers to her riddles. The halls are still long. And the faint smell of disinfectant, books and sweat still lingers. The only thing different is the petite principal; Ms Munsinger.
After a brief chat with her, both Ethan and I now stand on stage before the mass infestation of teenagers and irritated teachers. My eyes scan the faces, not seeing any potential threat among them. Maybe it is still too early. Besides what am I really looking for?! A person with darting eyes, shivering out of control and wearing a big t-shirt saying 'I AM U.N.O'?!
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Heterodox (BOOK 2)
Подростковая литератураBook Two of the Unorthodox Duology ~Vesper~ I gave them five minutes to panic. Five minutes to pace. Five minutes to yank at your hair. Five minutes to guzzle down as much black licorice as you could. Five minutes to rock back and forth muttering 'L...