🏆 SHORTLIST - OPEN NOVELLA CONTEST 2024 🏆
A misfit of an aristocratic family must find out who is behind the murder at his university before he is disowned and falls victim to the murderer.
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"Arlo..." Her voice was scratchy, as if she had been shouting monologues for the past hour. "What—"
"Go home for now," I said, cutting her off. The whispers rose to a noisy cloud around us. "I'll take you to the infirmary and call your father. He'll sort it out, I'm sure."
Alyson attempted to squirm, but her movements were nothing but a weak squiggle against my tight grip. "Please, Alyson," I said, dropping my voice to a whisper. "I can help you, but only if you let me."
She paused, wide, doll-like eyes searching mine. They have been filled with unspeakable sadness and anger, but now more than ever. With a brief nod, she let me throw her arm around my shoulder and grip her waist close to me. Let her and everyone think what they want. For now, I have a plan, and it included getting Alyson out of here.
I dragged Alyson across the cobblestones. She could walk on her own—the all-cure would have done its magic by now—but just for show, I kept her by my side. We passed by Ethan who stepped back to give us a wide berth. A flash of white by his wrist caught my eye. Since when did he injure himself?
"Hey, can I ask you a favor?" I said to him, towing Alyson with me. "I'll accompany her to Mrs. Lemorpha. You get me a list of all the scholarship students in Lyllan University."
Confusion blossomed in Ethan's impish face. "Sorry?" he said. "All of them? By tomorrow?"
I gave him a quick pat on the arm with my free hand. "If there's anyone who can do it, it's you," I said. My lips ripped into a hopeful smile. Match that with the strain Alyson's weight dropped onto my knees, I'd say I made for a convincing actor of desperation. "Help a friend out, will you?"
Ethan pursed his lips. "I'll try." He jerked his chin towards the vague direction of the infirmary. "Now, go."
The next hour passed by without any fanfare. The infirmary's door slid open, and I deposited Alyson to the nearest bed. After informing the nurse on duty about the symptoms and first-aid I gave, I was shooed to the rotary block where a cable-phone awaited me. After dialing my Uncle's office in the Ocalira, I was eventually connected to the head of Darwood Gardens, Mr. Joyce Gardner. Yes. Alyson's father.
The call went smoothly, with the man promising to send for Alyson before the last period bell rang. I gave Alyson one last nod before rushing out of the infirmary and back to my room. Forget about Walter. He had nothing to do with all this. Andy's bow grated against the strings of his violin when I burst inside the room without knocking. Before he could throw in a cheeky comment, I reached my bedside cabinet and pulled out the middle drawer.
Alexi's gun slid into my view, all golden, bright, and inviting.
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It was in the study hall when a shadow washed all over me and a stack of unbound sheets dropped in front of me. Ethan sank into the empty seat next to me, stretching his neck while rubbing it. "Oh, I worked hard for that," he whined, thumping his fist on his shoulders. Must be bloody stiff as hell. "But I only got to the new slates in the Botany Credence."
