Rush hour hadn’t quite hit by the time Graham pulled into the parking lot. Rachael looked up at her apartment and grimaced. The idea of going back there when she could be at Silverwood was completely unappealing.

Letting out a chuckle that told her he had guessed her mood, Graham said, “It could be your last night here. If you want.”

“True,” she noted, thinking that sounded like a good idea. The quicker she got to Silverwood, the better the chances all of this didn’t slip away. She was already concerned that she might wake up the next morning to find it had all truly been a dream. “Well, thanks a lot for everything.”

“Oh, I’ll walk you to the door,” Graham insisted, getting out of the car.

Rachael appreciated the gesture. It wasn’t dark, and she lived in a relatively safe neighborhood, but it would give her a few more minutes with Graham. Besides, there was a pretty good chance her cat would want to see him.

“Do you think you’ll need to give Merek and Merek two weeks’ notice?” Graham asked as Rachael gathered the bag she’d left sitting in the bottom of Graham’s car all day and the packet of papers he’d given her.

It was a legitimate question. Even considering going back there for two weeks summoned bile to the back of her throat. “That would be the polite thing to do.” She shrugged and closed the car door, following him to the sidewalk. “But… I really don’t want to.”

There was that chuckle again, that rich melodious sound she knew she’d miss the second he walked away from her. “I don’t blame you. Most of the time, we recruit kids right out of high school or out of other college programs that are also finishing up for the semester. But when we do have non-traditional students, most of them elect to quit outright. Assuming you don’t ever want to go back into accounting, it's likely the best option. You’re probably burning bridges if you don’t give them fair warning.”

Rachael couldn’t help but think over a year should’ve been plenty of time, but she couldn’t have her world where she didn’t work at Merek and Merek anymore and keep Graham and her fantasy world. “I don’t think I’ll ever want to go back there.” She climbed the stairs with slow, deliberate steps, wishing there was a way to prolong his stay but knowing he’d want to get back.

Fumbling for her keys in her purse, Rachael created a stall tactic she hadn’t even planned. Eventually, she found them. “Do you wanna come in and visit Scrappy for a few minutes?” she asked, hoping she’d managed to make her invitation sound as innocent as possible.

“Thanks, but no. I’ve gotta get back. I have a few more recruits I need to go visit tomorrow.”

Her mouth wanted to turn down at the corners, despite her best efforts to control it. An idea occurred to her. “What… do I tell my family and friends? I’m going to have to tell them something. They’re going to wonder why I’m moving out.”

“Right.” His hands were in the pockets of his leather jacket, and he extended them as he nodded, creating wings for a moment. “Normally, we sit down with a student’s parents and fill them in at the same time as we are talking to the student. But there’s not anyone else in your family who needs to know about Silverwood. I would suggest you use the cover story the auxiliary staff that works in Waynesboro uses.”

“What’s that?” She couldn’t remember ever writing the specifics about that in any of her books.

“They say they work at Waynesboro Community College for Juvenile Delinquents.” Rachael’s eyes widened. “It’s a closed campus because some of our students are dangerous. We only allow visitors every other Wednesday and then strictly in the dormitory. Tell them you’ll be teaching accounting courses. That cover usually works.”

Rachael’s head rocked back and forth, but she thought that might be a hard sell to her mom. “Okay. I’ll give it a try.”

“If you believe it, they’ll believe it.”

She’d have to hope she could believe it then. So far, she was pretty good at believing life into the impossible. It also occurred to her that some of the students at Silverwood were able to use telepathy to persuade people. She wondered if she had that magical ability. Maybe that could help her convince everyone she was suddenly going to teach at a junior college. Graham hadn’t even shown her any of his magic--but then, there hadn’t been a real need to move objects without touching them on her tour of the facilities.

Pulling herself back to the present, Rachael said, “All right, well, thanks again.” She leaned back on the door slightly, and it popped open, giving Scrappy just the opportunity she needed to break out and give Graham’s pant leg a good polish.

“My goodness, kitty. You are so friendly,” he said, though he didn’t bend over and scratch her. Rachael got the impression Graham was more of a dog person.

“She’s not usually friendly at all, but she seems to like you. For some reason.” She winked at him, getting a grin, but then she felt like maybe she’d been too forward. There was a thin line between teasing and flirting. Rachael might’ve left that behind.

“It was great meeting you, Rach,” Graham said, trying to step away, but the cat glued to his leg came along. “Give me a call or shoot me a text once you know for sure when you’re coming, and we’ll get everything arranged.”

“Awesome. Thanks, Graham.” She felt like she should hug him, or at least shake his hand, but Scrappy was doing a good job of running him off. He was close to the top of the stairs now. A moment of panic struck her as she wondered if this might be the last time she ever saw him. What if she really did wake up back in the real world tomorrow?

“We’ll talk soon.” He gave her another smile, and headed down the stairs. Scrappy knew better than to take her happy little self down the stairs, so she stood at the top and mewed for a few moments until Rachael tossed her stuff inside of the apartment and came back to scoop her up.

Cradling the lamenting cat in her arms, she watched Graham get into his car and drive off without looking back in their direction, and she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she wasn’t just another student to him, just another recruitment job. Sure, he’d said more than once that she seemed different, like they’d known each other for years, but maybe he always said that. Not that she’d ever remembered writing that into his dialogue before. “Come on Scrap. We’ve got a lot of work to do.” She patted her kitty’s head one more time and then headed back to her apartment, hoping that glimpse of Graham’s Ferrari wasn’t the last time she saw him.