Suppressing a sigh, I knocked on the Principal’s door.

  The secretary let me in. I never got her name, and she didn’t have a name tag. So she was always Ms. Secretary to me. The moment I came through the door, she gave me once over, right over the top of her red horn-rimmed glasses.

  I beamed at her.

  She scowled.

  Some people, I swear.

  Regardless, her expression eventually softened. Her voice was a touch more polite than her usual snippy self, “Mr. Hallow. Your father called and asked you to call him back.”

  Nodding, I picked up the school phone, and dialed his number. My dad never got me a cellphone, I don't know why. Even before the first ring finished, he picked up.

  “Jain?”

  “Dad?”

  A pause, then he said, “...Jain Shin Hallow?”

  “No, this is the other Jain Hollow. With an O.” I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, it’s me, Dad.”

  “Oh, thank god.” He exclaimed.

  His tone immediately set off alarm bells in my head.

  “Dad?”

  “Jain, listen to me very carefully, Ok?” He said, “I’m going away for a bit. A man named Emyrith, Emyrith Lin, is going to come and pick you up from school. He’s a lawyer. I want you to go with him, and follow–”

  There was some background noise from the other end. “–Flight number 256 to England is at gate–”

  “–trust him. Ok?”

  “What?” I frowned, the alarm bells turning into fullblown foghorns now. Something was wrong, really wrong. “Are you at an airport?”

  “Jain, did you get what I said? Emyrith Lin, the Lawyer. Listen to him. He’s going to–”

  “–begin seating Priority One. Will you please–” The damned announcement again.

  “–can’t explain everything, but you will understand.” My Dad mumbled, his voice growing distant for a second, “Damn it, that’s my flight. Look, I have to go now. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a better explanation. But–”

  “Dad, what are you saying?” I nearly shouted into the phone.

  The secretary glanced up from her computer, with a sharp look.

  I winced, lowering my voice. “Goddamit, Dad. What the hell. I have no idea–”

  “I love you Son. You’ll do great. I believe in you.”

  “What kind of cringey B-rated movie death-flag raising one-liner are you–”

  He hung up.

  “Dad, what the hell?!” I whisper-screamed into the phone.

  My heart was pounding. My dad was a quiet, ‘go with the flow’ kind of guy. He doesn't do 'rushed phone call in the middle of the airport'. Not gonna lie, it scared me too. I don’t care what anyone says, it’s ingrained in all of us. A biological instinct, that when your parents are scared, you are too. Trust me, I took a class on Evolutionary Biology and everything.

  What was this thing about going away for a bit? Did I really hear an airport announcement on the other end? Who was this lawyer that he kept mentioning?

  I shared a look with the Secretary, who raised her glasses with one finger. I feigned a smile, gently setting the phone back. She sighed and went back to her computer.

  “Are you done with your phone call?” Ms. Secretary asked, her eyes never leaving her screen.

  “Er, yeah.”

  She picked up her phone, “He’s here, Mr. Beckit. Should I send him in?” She nodded and gestured for me to go in.

  I’d been to a lot of principal’s offices, for reasons that good kids would never be sent for. Mr. Beckit’s office was the hoity-toitiest of them all. It was decked out with a four piece leather couch set, a glass coffee table that probably cost more than my rent, authentic paintings on the walls, and a working fireplace in the corner.

  “Mr. Hallow. Come in and take a seat.” Mr. Beckit waved me in. He was a little too young to be a principal, and definitely too young to be balding. He wore a suit expensive enough to make up for both.

  There was a visitor.

  He was tall. Tall enough for me to notice the fact even though he was sitting down. He wore a three-piece navy suit with an expensive watch wrapped around the right wrist. He looked mixed: Asian, European, and maybe something else.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The man rose out of his chair , reaching out for a handshake. “Mr. Hallow. Emyrith Lin, Esquire. At your service.”

  My stupid mouth went on autopilot and smarted off, “Jain Hallow, Student. At your service.” I even copied his tone.

  Stupid, stupid mouth.

  To my surprise, Emyrith Lin’s eyes twinkled. “Quick.” He said it quietly, almost to himself. “Please, call me Emyrith.”

  Most adults don’t take it kindly when I make jokes like that. I eyed the principal and his mouth was already pressed into a thin line of disapproval. His eyes had already given me the once-over, stalling at the stains, and I knew I was going to get an earful later about the need to make myself presentable while representing Charter Academy.

  But my attention was mostly on Emyrith. He had one of those voices, one that was used to being listened to without needing to be raised. No hint of the boroughs in his speech either, so not bridge and tunnel. Which meant Manhattan; which also meant money.

  While I was sizing him up, Emyrith was doing the same.

  Mr. Beckit cleared his throat, “Mr. Lin, is there anything I could get you? Tea? Coffee?”

  Emyrith shook his head. “No need, Mr. Beckit. Mr. Hallow and I have quite a schedule ahead of us, it’d be best if we’re on our way.”

  “Surely, you have time? We’re on holiday schedule, and early dismissal is only a few hours–”

  Emyrith smiled. “Perfect. Then I’m not interrupting anything important.” He stood up, holding a briefcase in one arm and a coat folded in the other. “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Beckit.”

  I could see the Principal’s internal struggle. He looked at my dirtied uniform, then at Emyrith’s well-fitted Italian suit. It hit me. The schmuck wanted to talk to the fancy lawyer for even a minute longer.

  Eventually, a lack of concern for me collaborated with a desire not to get on the lawyer’s bad side. One didn’t become principal of Charter Academy by naysaying powerful men.

  “Well then, there’s ice on the road. Do be careful.” He said.

  Before I could get a word in, Emyrith managed to say good-bye to the principal, charm his way through the secretary, and hustle me out into the hallways. One blink, and I was walking down the perfectly marbled floors of Charter Academy, surrounded on either side by lockers and mostly empty classrooms.

  “You don’t like him much, do you?” Emyrith asked dryly.

  I thought about lying then shrugged, “As much as I like anyone else.”

  “Fair answer.” He said, “What class did you have after this?”

  “AP Biology. Wait a second–” I stopped in place, whirling around. “You can’t just push me down the hall like this. Who are you?”

  “Emyrith Lin, Esquire.” He repeated, “Didn’t your father–”

  “My dad told me crap-all. He told me next to nothing.” I snapped, “He told me he’s going away and that you’re going to pick me up. But for all I know, you’re some kind of loan shark that’s going to sell my organs–”

  Before I could say anything else, the door to the empty classroom behind me clicked open and Emyrith jostled me through it.

  “Hey! What the–”

  “Mr. Hallow, trust me when I say the last thing I want is bring you harm.”

  For the first time, I realized just how much bigger Emyrith was. He had at least half a foot on me, and was built like an athlete. Goddamn, his body was basically solid steel.

  “You… you just…” I sputtered, but nothing smart came to mind. I opted for, “What the fuck?!”

  I reached for the doorknob.

  Then Emyrith did something strange.

  He lifted two fingers and I could’ve sworn that it glowed. He made strokes midair, writing in what looked like Chinese characters.

  “Huǒ,” He whispered.

  The freaking doorknob began to glow red while giving off heat.

  “What the fuck!” I swore, snatching my hand away from the doorknob a full two inches before even touching the thing. It was hot.

  My heart pounded. Emyrith had done something just now, but I had no idea what.

  The lawyer didn’t lose a moment. He pushed past me, bright eyes fixed straight on mine. All the while, his hands were busy setting his briefcase on a desk and reaching in.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Hallow. But we really are pressed for time. Now,” His lips pressed into a thin line in distaste, “Take off your clothes.”

  “...What the fuck?”