Page 32 of A Dead Man's B-Side
I lowered my head, pressing it against the cool wood, and finally letting out the breath I hadn’t known I was holding.
Something told me I’d be committing another crime this year.
Chapter Seven
Alexandr Miroslav
1982
It was during my quiet breakfast that I caught wind of the news. The gossip mill at Castle Hill seemed to work around the clock, and news travelled as though by wind.
I heard whispers all morning; a girl in front of me turning to her friend and speaking in a rushed whisper on their walk to campus. I’d only caught the beginning of her words.
Did you hear?
It wasn’t until I’d settled in the back of the Dining Hall that August, ever the persistent parasite, clambered down in the seat facing me. “Did you hear?”
I didn’t look up from my plate of well-seasoned purée and steak, choosing that over the sweeter breakfast option, and only rolled my eyes. “You have no idea how much I’ve heard that phrase today. Seems it’s got these people in a whirlwind.”
August snorted. “You have no idea.” He dug into his fruit toast rather strenuously. “The Saltford-Windsor patriarch passed away last night.”
I might’ve gotten whiplash from how fast I’d lifted my head athis words if I hadn’t been so eager to, for once, hear what August had to say. “Last night… You mean–”
He nodded like I’d picked up what he put down. “Around the time that we’d received those letters–earlier, possibly.”
“How do you know?”
He looked around before realizing there wasn’t a chance anyone could hear him, considering there was no one around. “The family released a statement last night saying he took his last breath at sunset. Maybe it’s a lie and they’d only said so to make his death a memorable one.”
Come to think of it, it did sound more plausible. “Well, it's giving this entire thing a wide berth. What does he have to do with any of it?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. But it can’t be a coincidence. Anyways, his son, Thaddeus Saltford-Windsor, has taken his seat as head of the family. You know what that means.”
When I failed to reply, and he hadn’t heard anything back, he lifted his head from his food and sent me an obvious look. “You know what this means for people around here? Business owners, politicians. Any and all deals were with Thaddeus Sr., and now that he’s dead…”
I finally nodded in understanding and murmured, almost to myself, “All dealings are now void.”
This was, despite it not concerning me, quite interesting. Students with anything left to their name as inheritance were at stake.
I’d seen multiple of my peers glued to the telephones, sometaking phone calls as though it were their last, clutching the line with vigour. It was all piecing itself together now. The hierarchy was shifting. The board members would remain in power, but those once considered close to the Saltford-Windsor circle would change, from the looks of trepidation among the student body it seems it already has.
Alliances would shift, friendships would break, and the world would continue to go round, the working class none the wiser.
August and I watched, as though from the outside looking in, as students passed in a flurry, darting from this person and that.
“This should be interesting.”
August huffed out a laugh. “You have no idea.”
And interesting it was.
Walking into Law, I’d grown anxious with each step closer to the classroom, but upon looking at Mr Browne’s face, something made me relax and realize I’d be the least of his worries. His smile was genuine, large and sharp. Like a wolf that’d found its supper.
I wondered if he had anything in it for himself. Any deals he made in which he was waiting for a payout. Knowing him, he probably did.
“Everyone, please take your seats. I know today has brought us quite a morning, but we still have a lot to go through. There is a folder already placed on each of your desks. Do not open them–I’ll explain the exercise you’ll be working on in pairs after the lesson.”
The class settled down, and Wolf rushed in right at the final bell, throwing an apologetic wave as he took his seat next to me.
