“Sorry I’m late. I had to have a chat with Rob Harris,” Nick said by way of greeting.
“That’s all right. Beth has been filling me in about—” Hal stopped short when Nick joined him and Beth at the windows. “What in all holy happened to your face?”
“Someone punched me.”
“Someone who?”
He detailed the whole fight and the conversation with the Vice Chancellor and Dean Harris, and it left him hollow and drained. He sat in a chair in front of Hal’s wide pine desk, propped his elbow on the scarred desktop, and dropped his head into his hand, too tired to hold it up. Recalling the way the Vice Chancellor had reacted crushed him, and he sank down in the chair until his head rested in the crook of his elbow. He’d been given no opportunity to defend himself or explain, and without asking anyone i
