Saphora vol.1 Retention
Page 52
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Sitting at his desk, Lupin sat with his forehead against the palm of his hand. She’d slipped away from him again. When was he going to find the time to examine her properly? He sighed, rubbing his hand against his forehead and burying his fingertips in his hairline.
It was then that his phone rang. His office phone. Looking up from his current moping position, he cleared his throat and reached for the phone, picking it up on third ring and holding it against his ear.
“Hello, Dr. Lupin’s office. Lupin speaking,” he answered, slightly exhaling.
“Dr. Lupin? This is Officer Johnson. How are you?” Lupin shook his head slightly, raising his brows.
“Well, I’ve been better, Ms. Johnson. What can I do for you?”
“Have you spoken with Saphora lately?”
“Briefly. She was in my office not too long ago.”
“Is she still in the building?” Lupin slid his hand down his face, exhaling.
“No, I’m afraid she cut our session short. Were you wanting to speak with her?” Johnson hummed.
“Yes, but we can talk to you as well. I need you to tell me the story Saphora told you.” Lupin blinked, his brows raising momentarily again.
“Story?”
“The story she told you about what happened to Jones,” Johnson clarified. Lupin’s posture straightened as he sat up in his seat, instantly more alert about where the conversation was headed.
“What about it?” he asked after some hesitation.
“We need to … compare it to that of one of our officers.”
“What happened?” Johnson huffed, putting her hand on her hip as she turned slightly to look over at the alert Glover.
“There was an incident on the highway involving Officer Glover, Saphora, and what he describes to be the fire-wielding man known as Tebias.” Lupin’s eyes widened as he pushed away from his desk, stretching the cord of the phone slightly.
“Tebias …” Lupin’s eyes darted about, almost as if denial, before quickly shifting to that of curiosity. He reached to the side and opened the drawer to his desk, aiming to find his notes. But what he found alarmed him. All of his binders, notepads, and stationary that he had gathered over the years of Saphora’s case, were now sitting in a minuscule mound of ash. He started at the inside of the drawer in disbelief, his mouth agape. His eyes raised to look forward, as his brain scrambled for some sort of explanation. Coming up, with only one, he stood up, gripping the phone as the cord stretched.
“Is there somewhere we can meet?”