ATTACHMENTS

chapter 4: 23 Emerald Street.

Amber stood in front of the long mirror in the room, adjusting her trouser as she turned left and right, checking the fit.

“Hmm…Are you sure you don't want me to follow you?” Ada's voice broke the silence as she leaned against the door frame, arms folded.

“I'll be fine, mom. I will be. I'll be sharing my location” Amber watched Ada from the mirror.

“It's alright. Why are you in ballet shoes? Your loafers will rock better. And please, change the football shirt and wear something plain. Maybe the blue oxford shirt. It'll go better with this cream white trouser. Don't look desperate for attention. Just simple and you'll be great.” Ada assured with a smile as she walked to the wardrobe.

“Wow! Now I have to change again for the fourth time.” Amber said as she leaned against the wall, eyebrows down as she stared at the clothes she's changed from.

“You could have woken Maya and ask her. You know she's the best in fashion.” Ada laughed as she brought out a folded blue shirt.“This will be better,” Ada smiled.

Amber changed into the blue Oxford shirt slowly, staring at herself one last time before picking up the card from the bed.

“You really seem like the one who did a fashion course not Maya…I look good don't I?”

Ada smiled walking up to her. She adjusted Amber's collar again before sighing softly.

“You really don’t know what you do to people, do you?”

“Oh please…you're good in flattering me”

23 Emerald Street.

The words felt heavier now in Amber's mouth than they did in class.

Ada watched her quietly as Amber slipped the card into her pocket and reached for Maya’s scooter keys.

“Are you sure about this?” Ada asked again, softer this time.

“I'm not but I want to” amber smiled as she picked her cross body bag and left the room.

The city looked different at night.

Streetlights stretched across wet roads. Hale’s words replayed endlessly in her mind as she tightened her grip on the handlebar.

“That’s where the work starts.”

“I’m expecting to see you there.” Hale's words became heavier.

The further she rode from her apartment, the quieter the streets became.

Boston slowly stopped feeling like a student city and started feeling older… wealthier… colder.

“The noisy apartment buildings slowly gave way to mansions and huge lawns.Her eyes fixed on the road and her phone as she navigated her journey with Google maps.

“Move to the right”.The robotic voice cut through the wind: “In four hundred meters, turn left onto Highland Avenue… then right in one point two kilometers.”

“You better not get me confused.” Amber sighed.

She didn’t know this part of Boston at all. The further she rode, the more out of place she felt. Tree-lined roads and large homes set back from the street. This was a different world.

“Turn right.” A voice crackled from the phone.

Amber shook her head quietly, eyes moving from one house to another.

“You have arrived at 23 Emerald Street.”Google Maps announced.

Amber slowed to a stop in front of a tall black gate. It was a nice house.The kind that makes you wonder what the owners do for a living. A big, modern duplex hidden behind high hedges and a perfect lawn, so you could barely see it from the street.

The lights were on inside, looking cozy, and there was a shiny old Peugeot 504 in the driveway and a Maserati beside it looked disgustingly expensive.The whole place felt quiet and private, like it was in its own little world.

She turned off the engine. The sudden silence felt loud.

What kind of professor lives here? she thought.

“Young lady! Who are you?” A mild voice of a woman called out from behind.

Amber was shocked, her heart skipped a beat and turned immediately.

“I…I..Good evening ma'am “ Amber turned towards the lady.

“What is your name?” She asked again.

“I'm Amber,”she said, reaching into her bag to pull out the card.

“I was given this card by Prof. Hale. I believe this is the address.” Amber brought out the card and handed it over to the woman.

“And you don't have his phone number? How am I sure you didn't pick it up and might cause harm?”

“No ma, no no.” Amber replied like she's gained her confidence again.

“Don't worry. I know you're not of any harm. No way you'll pick it up. Hale is too calculated to drop off such. You're welcome young lady.”

“Thank you ma.”

“Come in.”

The gate opens slowly; heavy iron, no rush. From there, the path begins.A long walkway paved in wide. On either side, tall trees. The compound is peaceful but not quiet as the water fountain gushes out.

Amber was stunned. It was more than she saw from the gate. There are more cars than she saw. Fleets.

It looked like old money mixed with modern obsession.

She hasn't seen anything like this as her eyes danced around.

“Are you his mom?” Amber asked.

“I'm his maid. I was his parents' maid till they died. I've been watching over him and the properties till he was twenty and took over the properties and company. But instead of settling me, he still kept me and increased my pay by a margin.”

She smiled.

“Amber smiled politely. Frances talked easily, almost like she'd been waiting for someone to listen.

“What's your name ma'am?”

“I'm Frances.”

They walked into the house.

“You can sit. I'll inform him of you.” Frances gesturing her hands to a leather couch.

“Thank you ma'am.”

“It's Frances.” she responded with a soft smile as she walked into the door.

Amber’s eyes drifted toward the framed award beside the bookshelf.

National Excellence in Behavioral Research.

Below it sat photographs of Hale shaking hands with government officials and standing beside lecturers from different universities.

“I was thirty two when I got that award.”

Amber turned sharply.

Prof. Hale stood near the hallway entrance, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. Dressed in a blue trouser and a pink chequered shirt.

“I was just looking around,” she replied quickly.

“I can tell.”

His eyes moved briefly over her outfit.

“The collar still folds unevenly,” he said calmly, stepping closer. “The loafers saved the outfit”

Amber looked down unconsciously.

A small smile touched his face.

“Sit,” Hale said, gesturing toward the leather couch which she sat on earlier.

Amber obeyed almost immediately.

The house smelled faintly of coffee and old books. Soft jazz played somewhere deeper inside the building. Everything looked arranged.

Hale took the seat opposite hers instead of beside her.

Frances entered quietly and placed a tray between them before disappearing again.

Amber reached for the glass of water immediately.

“Nervous people always touch something first,” Hale said, leaning into the seat.

Amber stopped halfway.

A small smile appeared on his face again.

“You see? Most people spend their whole lives unaware of themselves in motion.”

“So this is what you do?” Amber asked quietly. “Study people until they start questioning themselves?”

Hale’s expression barely changed.

“Only the interesting ones.”

“What makes me interesting”

“You keep leaning toward things that unsettle you.”

Amber stayed quiet for a second. Then looked down on her shoes then back to the professor.

“I still think you embarrassed me in class.”

Hale leaned in slightly, fingers resting against the arm of the chair.

“No,” he replied calmly. “I interrupted certainty. There’s a difference.”

Amber frowned.

“You talk like confidence is a bad thing.”

“Unexamined confidence is dangerous,” Hale said. “Especially in psychology.”

He reached for the tray.

“You answered quickly this morning.”

“I thought I understood the question.”

“And now?”

Amber hesitated. Shoulders dropping.

Hale noticed immediately. Smiles.

“That pause,” he said quietly. “That’s where intelligence actually begins.”

Amber looked at him carefully this time.

For the first time since entering the house, she stopped feeling like a student being judged and started feeling like someone being studied.

And somehow… she still hadn’t decided if that made her uncomfortable or curious.

Amber placed the glass down slowly, watching him more carefully now.

“Why did you invite me here?” she asked. Her voice was quieter than she expected.

Hale didn’t answer immediately.

He leaned back slightly, eyes fixed on the center table as if the question wasn’t new to him. Then his gaze caught Amber. He stared for a moment too long.

“That’s what you should’ve asked before you came,” he said calmly.

Amber frowned a little. “I am asking now.”

A faint exhale left him, almost like a smile, but not fully.

“I didn’t invite you for a conversation,” he said.

Hearing this, Amber became uncomfortable, sitting straighter.

“Then what for?”

“Because this is your fourth time answering my question,” he said. “And most students repeat information. You challenged it.”

Amber didn’t respond.

He continued, slower now.

“I don’t usually follow up on students. It creates unnecessary attachment… and distraction.”

A pause.

“But you kept thinking after you spoke. I could see it. Even when you thought you were done.”

Amber swallowed slightly.

“So this is research?” she asked. “Observation?”

Hale shook his head once.

“No.”

He leaned forward .

“This is a correction.”

Silence dropped between them.

Amber blinked. “Correction of what?”

Hale studied her face again, like he was deciding how much truth to give.

“Of how you think you understand value,” he said. “And how quickly you assume certainty.”

He stood slowly.

“And before you ask again, no, you’re not here because you’re special.”

A beat.

“You’re here because you’re wrong in an interesting way.” This time, there was no trace of a smile in him.

Amber didn’t speak.

The words didn’t feel insulting… but they didn’t feel kind either.

They just sat in her chest like something unfinished.

She wasn’t sure if she had walked into a conversation…or a test she hadn’t agreed to take.

Hale stood, walking toward the bookshelf as if the conversation had already shifted away from her. His hand ran along the spine of a book without picking it.

Amber broke the silence.

“So.… what exactly am I supposed to do with that?” she asked.

Hale didn’t turn back immediately.

“That depends,” he said.

“On what?”

He finally looked at her again.

“On whether you came here to understand… or to defend yourself.”

Amber frowned slightly. “I’m not defending anything.”

Hale nodded once, almost like he expected that answer.

“Good,” he said.

Then he walked back slowly and stopped near the center table again, closer this time but not too close.

“Tell me, Amber,” he said, voice low and measured as he pulled his hands from his pocket.

“This morning you argued that life has value simply because it exists. Yet here you are. Thousands of miles from Angola, on a scholarship, still thinking about my card after I embarrassed you in front of the entire class.”

Amber shifted on the couch.