Page 13 of Saint Céline
“No need.” She waved me back down and closed the door behind her. “I wanted to check in about your lab roster. Student affairs is reviewing schedules for anyone affected by Katherine’s passing.”
Affected by.Such a tidy phrase.
“How thoughtful,” I said.
Her mouth tightened just a fraction. She had known me long enough to catch the edge under the politeness.
“Céline Martin withdrew her application this morning,” she said.
“I saw.”
“I assume you’ll move on to the next candidate.”
“No.”
Dean Waverly paused.
I closed the folder in front of me.
“I’ll be accepting her.”
“She withdrew, Vincent.”
“I chose not to honour the withdrawal.”
“That is not usually how student applications work.”
“No,” I agreed. “Usually they are far less interesting.”
She gave me the look administrators saved for faculty they could not easily replace.
“Céline is grieving. She may not be prepared for additional academic pressure right now.”
“Possibly.”
“And Katherine Montgomery’s death has made the situation delicate.”
I shrugged.
Her eyes narrowed, and I smiled.
After a moment, she sighed. “Is the proposal really that strong?”
“Yes.”
“Strong enough to justify pushing?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re certain this is about the research?”
I held her gaze, pleasant as ever. “What else would it be about?”
Dean Waverly watched me a moment too long. She was one of the few people on campus who never mistook my charm for honesty. I respected that about her. Not enough to be truthful with her, but enough to enjoy the game.
Finally, she said, “Be careful.”
“With the student or the optics?”
