Chapter 33

KATHERINE.

“Good afternoon, Professor Helton,” I greeted as I walked into the office and Professor Helton lifted his gaze from the stack of papers in front of him.

“Ah, Katherine. Good afternoon.” He gave me a small smile which I returned as I gently shut the door.

I then made my way over to his desk and sat in one of the seats across from him before I began to grade the assignment my coursemates and I had submitted to him earlier today. Being Professor Helton’s TA was nice. It was clear he didn’t hold the same views that the Dean and some other professors held regarding the hierarchy and that was rather refreshing. He was also precise and straight to the point so I usually only spent an hour or less working as his TA every weekday.

Several minutes later, I was done grading the assignments and the next thing he needed me to do was to sort the students' files in a cabinet according to the student’s department so I made my way over to the cabinets. It also took me a couple of minutes to do that but apart from sorting them according to departments, I created another stack and that one was of students that had an ‘X’ next to their names on their files.

“Professor Helton?” I called and he lifted his gaze to mine, raising his brows, before I raised the files with the ‘X’ on them. “What about these?”

“What about them?”

“The names have an x next to them,” I replied, wondering if the students had dropped out or something, and he stared at me in silence for a couple of seconds before realization dawned on his face. Then it was replaced by a downcast expression.

“Those are the students that went missing last year.”

“Huh?” I muttered, furrowing my brows, before I remembered the night of the bonfire. Someone had asked if the lady of the lake was behind students going missing last year and Ethan had responded with ‘No one knows’. I hadn’t thought of it since that day but now that Professor Helton said that, I was baffled at the fact that people went missing in ‘Blackwood’.

‘How did they go missing?’ I thought just before asking, “Did the lady of the lake really take them?”

From what I saw in Renfield Hall, ghosts were fucking real so maybe the lady of the lake did drag them down to the bottom of Clearberry Lake. ‘They would have found the bodies though…’

Professor Helton snorted and finally dropped the paper he’d been staring at before I drew his attention. “I don’t think she takes anyone.”

‘Oh…’ My eyes darted back to the files in my hand and as I stared at the name of the file on top – Isabella Grantham – a gloomy feeling washed over me. “What happened to them?” I asked and he shrugged, leaning back in his chair.

“A lot of people have different theories.”

“What do you think?” I replied and he set his mouth in a hard line before a faraway look suddenly appeared in his eyes.

“The pressure builds as the waves break, and then I see it, something big and great. It’s towering above me, I’m paralyzed with fear, and then it strikes, and I’m lost in the storm.”

‘What?’ I tipped my head to the side, not understanding one word of what he said, before he rapidly blinked at me like he’d spaced out. Then he gave me a small smile.

“I think they got caught up in something bigger than them…” He nodded at the stack in my hand. “Leave those on top of the cabinet. I’ll get rid of them.”

“Okay,” I said even though I didn’t like the idea of him getting rid of them. I hadn’t counted the files that had an X on them but they were too many… Too many. I wondered what happened to them.

I dropped the files where he’d asked me to and as I did so, I noticed there was a name signed at the bottom of the painting hanging from the wall. It was a painting of a bunny in a field of wildflowers and it always made me smile when I stared at it but the name signed at the bottom made my smile even wider now because it was Hunter’s… Hunter Helton.

“Ah, you’re Hunter’s…” I trailed off, not knowing if he was his dad or brother or–

“Uncle. Are you friends with him?” he replied.

Since I was done with what he needed me to do, I walked over to the seat and grabbed my bag before letting my eyes wander back to the painting. I hadn’t seen Hunter since the first CMES club meeting which was Friday night and I wanted to rectify that because I kinda missed him.

“I’ll be leaving now.”

“Have a nice day, Katherine.”

****

The door to the art studio was slightly ajar when I got to it and I hoped Hunter was in it because I didn’t have his number so I hadn’t been able to confirm his location. I peeked into the room to confirm if he was there and if he was alone and my lips curved into a smile because both were correct.

Hunter was standing in front of a canvas and was haphazardly drawing random strokes on the canvas. Of course, I didn’t understand what he was painting but I was mesmerized by how engrossed he was in his work and how good he looked in his element with splashes of paint on his white T-shirt and jeans.

“Hunter,” I called and he jerked, startled, before he whirled to face me. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t…” I trailed off while a bright smile lit his face. “Sorry.”

His smile grew wider before he waved me over and I walked in, gently shutting the door behind me.

“So what are you working on?” I asked when I got to him and he let out a harsh breath as he glanced at the canvas.

“I have no idea,” he replied and I gave him a disbelieving smile while he set down the charcoal he’d been using to draw. “It’s good to see you here. I was beginning to think you forgot me.”

“I did not,” I blurted out and a grin appeared on his face. “I absolutely did not. You’re rather unforgettable,” I added and his brows lifted a bit before his cheeks flushed.

“Ah, um…”

His reaction made heat rush to my face also and I looked away from him for a moment. I didn’t regret saying that though because it was true. Hunter was unforgettable.

‘Wait, why am I getting embarrassed because he is?’

“The painting,” I quickly said before the mood could become awkward and he gave me a questioning look. “The one you were working on the day we met.”

“Oh, yeah.” He cleared his throat and used a piece of cloth hanging from the easel to wipe his hands. “Just a moment.” He headed over to a door on the other end of the room and disappeared into the space behind it before reemerging with a canvas. “Here it is.”