Chapter004
1037 Words
In the hallway, five people were in front of her.
Emma tried not to listen to the sounds of the conversations that were leaking out from behind the door of Room 214 as she stood against the wall with her arms crossed tightly. A few pupils chuckled uneasily. Others talked quickly and in low tones about revisions, feedback, and grades. Nobody lingered for more than five minutes.
She had practiced her speech at least a dozen times.
"I just had some enquiries regarding your remarks on my paper."
"What did you mean when you said, 'Don't let it turn against you?'"
"Do you genuinely believe that my voice is worth honing?"
That last one sounded so hopeful, and she detested it. She understood its significance.
The others filed out one by one. A few appeared relieved. One of the girls was clearly upset. With a smile that gave Emma the impression that he had already decided the outcome before the game even started, Leo was the last to depart.
As he walked past her, he said, "Good luck." "Avoid falling in love with him." He causes a tremendous deal of inconvenience.
Emma remained silent. She entered the office.
---
She was surprised by how warm it was.
Each wall was adorned with books. She found not only academic books, some in unfamiliar languages, but also novels, poetry collections, and well-worn paperbacks. Only the dim glow of a desk lamp was present; there was no overhead illumination. Paper, coffee, a faint hint of sandalwood, and the smell of something clean and old.
With his sleeves rolled up and his tie a little loose, Julian sat behind his desk and read a pile of papers slowly and deliberately. At first, he didn't look up.
"You're Grant."
It wasn't a query.
"Yes," she said, her voice more breathy than loud.
Without raising his gaze, he pointed to the chair across from him. "Take a seat."
She took a seat.
There was a long pause. He finished writing something in the paper's margin, put it down, and looked her in the eyes.
"How may I assist you?"
Emma took a swallow.
Regarding your feedback on my paper, I had a question. In particular, what did you mean when you said, "Don't let it turn against you"?
He folded his hands in front of him and leant back a little.
He remarked, "You write with a clarity that cuts." "It's not common."
She blinked. "That seems like a compliment."
"Yes, it is. However, it also serves as a warning.
"To exercise caution?"
"To show kindness," he clarified.
Emma's breath caught a little.
Julian got up, went to the bookshelf behind him, and took out a little clothbound book of poetry.
"Have you read Anne Carson?"
"Not much," she acknowledged.
He gave her the book. His fingers touched hers briefly, unintentionally, and in an electrifying manner.
"Go to page 63 and read the final stanza."
Emma carefully opened it. Her hands felt awkward, suddenly too big. She located the page.
> "I won't talk / because I'm afraid I'll name you / and the sound will make you real / and I won't make it through it."
Slowly, she raised her gaze.
Julian's face was unreadable as he watched her.
He remarked, "That's how your essay felt."
Emma's throat became parched.
She tightened her grip on the book. "Is that advantageous?"
He took a while to respond.
Finally, he remarked, "It means your writing feels lived in." And it's powerful because of that. However, it's also risky because it speaks the truth even when you don't want it to.
Emma, attempting to appear unaffected, nodded.
"Thank you," she muttered.
For a brief moment, she believed that Julian's one nod was the last one.
However, he paused, glanced down, and then said, "I'm not always a good reader. I occasionally read things that weren't intended for me.
It wasn't until the silence lasted long enough for Emma to question whether he was still referring to meantr that she realised what he meant.
ShIt lasted long enough for Emma to question whether he was still referring toaid. "I have two copies, but it's out of print."
"Are you certain?"
"If I wasn't, I wouldn't have given it to you."
Once more, their gazes locked.
Something unsaid vibrated between them as if a wire had been pulled tautly.
Emma got up. She was no longer able to sit. The space seemed to vibrate with something unsaid between them as if a wire had been pulled taut.
Her voice was a bit too formal as she said, "Thank you, Professor Ashford."
Julian gave a nod but remained silent.
She grabbed her bag from the little chair in the corner and turned to face the door. Her elbow brushed the side of a wooden cabinet as she lifted it.
A drawer opened a little.
Not very broad.
Enough.
Inside, she caught the edge of something white. Sense was not as strong as curiosity.
She looked.
A folder. The colour is cream. Except for a single handwritten word at the top, it is unlabeled:
Her
She remained motionless. didn't make contact with it. But the word burned like a brand into her brain.
Julian had quietly stepped out from behind the desk.
He pushed the drawer shut with a firm but gentle hand.
Once more, their gazes locked.
They both remained silent.
---
Emma didn't say anything more before leaving.
It was colder in the hallway. The sharper the air. Her face was burning.
She held the book to her chest like a shield and walked quickly.
She threw the door behind her and fell back onto the bed in her dorm.
After painting her nails on the floor, Clara got up and sat down.
"Whoa. What took place with you?
Emma remained silent. She simply gazed at the book she was holding.
"Did he devour you?"
Emma slowly shook her head.
"Emma's mother remained silent and simply gazed at the book she was holding.
Emma remained silent.
because she was still lacking the necessary words. She only knew that he had
been a changed in that office. Not due to the words spoken.
but due to what wasn't.
- Writer
