Invite her in

“Come in,” you say, stepping aside.

“Thank you,” she replies, coming gracefully through the door. She looks around with interest. It’s rare for anyone from the university to come here. You have a faculty advisor, but even she rarely sets foot on the property.

“It’s bigger than I thought it would be,” Ms. Griffin murmurs, and you lead her into the dining room, where it’s neat. You open the curtains one-handed, but there’s not much light to let in.

“Do you want to sit?” you ask.

“All right,” she replies, taking a seat at the table.

“Is it OK if I get dressed?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks. Everyone here is OK,” you assure her. “I’ll start some coffee.”

“Sounds good,” she says, watching you leave.

You get dressed fast. There isn’t time for a shower, so you’ll have to trust deodorant for the moment. You don’t get dolled up. Jeans and a tee will have to do. Roxy was obviously hoping for a shower with you, but that’s not happening. You send her out the way she came in: through the window. It’s possible that Ms. Griffin didn’t get a good look at her face in the glance she had from the door. If so, you can still possibly resolve this without letting the authorities find out that Roxy was the one who pushed Officer Lang last night. Officer Lang saw you, but she didn’t see Roxy. This only works if nobody messes up. And the best way to keep them from messing up is to keep them away.

“Clean up, get dressed, and stay in your rooms until I come back,” you order them. Kris and Karen will obey without question. Lisey, you aren’t sure about. You glare at her, and she looks indignant.

You head downstairs. The coffee’s ready. Ms. Griffin is a difficult read, and you don’t know her. But you can make some guesses about her presence here. She must be a friend or ally to either Professor Austen or Officer Lang.

If she’s friendly with Professor Austen, that’s a problem.

If she’s friendly with Officer Lang, that’s a different problem.

But the third option is that she heard what happened from one of them, and has come with her own agenda. It’s time to find out.

“So. Why are you worried about us on a Saturday morning?” you ask her bluntly, sipping your coffee.

“Where are your friends?”

“I’m not responsible for them,” you reply. “I’m not in charge.”

“Fair enough. Then how do you know that they’re OK?”

“Because we were together last night?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Everyone?”

You nod.

“Goodness,” she says, taking a drink. “I’ve heard the rumors. I never imagined that they were true. Or at least, not all of them.”

“I hope you’re not disappointed.”

She laughs. “I like your spirit.”

“You haven’t answered my question,” you say.

“I heard there was a problem last night,” she says, but she doesn’t say where or from whom. She’s giving you a chance to volunteer something.

Confront the situation head-on?

Or play dumb?