Q is for Questions
After he was done he sat back in his seat, but he didn’t look comfortable.
“I suppose you have some questions for me,” he finally said, breaking the silence.
I did, but I didn’t know where to start; all my questions sounded like craziness to me. So I went with something safe, or so I thought. “What is this place?”
That time Erikson’s smile was real. “Newstead is a school for gifted young men.”
“Yeah, I got that part.”
Erikson’s eyes narrowed, measuring, deciding. That time the question was for me. “Have you ever fit in, Steven, you know, really belonged anywhere?”
Erikson nodded, like I’d said it out loud. “That’s because you belong here; with us.”
“What is this place?” I asked again, only that time I got a different answer.
“This is Newstead; where you, and those like you, are trained for the New Order.”
My gut twisted uncomfortably. I don’t know why, but I didn’t like the sound of that.
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