33 | Linger

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"How did you find the exam, Miss Westbrook?" Murdoch asks as I approach his desk with my answer sheet in hand.

I open my mouth to answer him, but instead of a response, I end up letting out a stiff yawn. I raise my hand to cover my lips, my face growing hot with embarrassment.

"I see," Murdoch says with a hint of his typical sardonic smirk. He touches the edge of his round-rimmed glasses unconsciously and says, "It's a very rewarding job, this."

There is no way I can explain to my professor that I'm worn out from spending all night tossing and turning in bed, glancing over at Vera's sleeping form in the darkness to see if she knew about Liam and me. She hadn't done or said anything that indicated this when she returned from the library. In fact, she was more cheerful than the absent-minded and exhausted self that she has been lately.

"I just might pass," she had said with a hopeful sigh before climbing into her bed and throwing the comforter over her head. "Night, Car."

I listened closely to her breathing in the cold wintry silence until it slowed and evened out. Even after I was absolutely convinced that she was asleep, I spent the next two hours struggling as sleep persistently evaded me.

She doesn't know. At least not yet, I kept saying to myself over and over like a mantra until I finally started to believe it.

And yet, I couldn't fall asleep. Because every time I closed my eyes they shot open on their own accord at the thought of Liam. Each attempt to stop worrying about him only ended in more worry, to the point where I could actually feel it in my mouth, a distinct, bitter taste.

I don't know how long it took for me to finally fall asleep, but there was one point when my eyelids drifted closed and I sank into fretful slumber out of sheer exhaustion.

The next morning, as I ran a brush through my hair, I scrolled through my phone when, suddenly, it chimed and vibrated in my hand. I dropped my hairbrush out of surprise, and it fell to the floor with a dull plasticky clatter. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at Liam's name flashing on my screen. Quickly, I snuck a look at Vera from the corner of my eye and found her sitting at the edge of her bed, putting on mismatched socks. Earphones plugged in, eyes narrowed thoughtfully, she was oblivious to the sound of my ringtone.

I knew Vera wasn't listening, but I answered the phone with a low, hushed greeting anyway. "Hello?"

"Hey."

The sound of Liam's voice induced a strong feeling of relief that resonated in my chest. The muscles in my shoulders unclenched as I demanded, "Are you okay, what happened, please tell me you're okay."

Liam chuckled lightly at the way my words tumbled over each other into one mostly incoherent sentence. I held my breath as I waited for his response, all the while worrying that Vera was watching me from behind.

"Carmen, I'm fine," he said. I searched for any signs of strain in his voice, but only found smooth composure. "Don't worry about Felix anymore, okay? He won't say anything."

My eyebrows furrowed, and I could feel my forehead crease with confusion. "But how . . . what did you do?"

At that moment, Vera's hand landed on my shoulder, causing me to flinch in surprise. I wheeled around, pressing the phone so close to my cheek that the warmth from the screen was seeping into my skin.

Vera's big, tawny eyes went wide as she held up her hands apologetically and said, "We've to go."

Her eyebrows shot up towards the end of the sentence, making her words sound more like a question than a declaration. The ends of her earphones hung limply from her fingers, the white buds swinging back and forth like pendulums.

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