The heat of the day was subsiding, helped by the cloud cover. Dust and sweat had left my arms mottled with grime and tracks where sweat had wiped it away. I’d washed my hands after helping Fume Hood, and I’d realized I hadn’t gotten all of Tempera’s paint and the blood on the backs of my hands. I was painfully conscious of the sweat, grime and blood, yet I couldn’t bring myself to go wash up because that would require attention to it.

Paradoxical, I was well aware.

I turned my attention back to the kids. Making sure they were okay. At some point where I had been lost in thought, Gilpatrick had showed up. I watched until he glanced my way. He raised a hand, and I raised mine. Then he turned his attention back to the teenagers. As it should be.

I’d figured I would be working late. I’d just thought it would be paperwork and talking to the students. I’d really liked that part. It was fascinating stuff when it wasn’t so close to home.

I could relax some, seeing Gilpatrick. Not because it meant great things, but because it meant I didn’t have to think about finding Gil after, getting the details, putting off hearing the news or delivering the essential details.

I put my hands behind me where I wouldn’t see the blood or the places where the paint had settled into the cracks, oil-black, and I leaned back, eyes closed, trying to focus on the voices and the sounds, on the breezy wind and the ambient warmth.

“I’m sorry,” Gilpatrick said. He’d approached me.

I kept my eyes closed. I said, “Are the students okay? The others?”

“They’re fine. Some have parents here, I’ve got a bus coming for the others. Psychologically, emotionally, I don’t know. It was scary and it was hard to know what was happening. The staff of the community center are obviously upset about the building, but that’s not on us.”

I opened my eyes.

Gilpatrick wasn’t wearing his vest. A sleeveless undershirt tucked into black pants, a sweatshirt slung over one shoulder. Bald, bushy eyebrows, hairy, hairy arms.

“Jasper filled me in on most of it,” he said. “He’s reliable when it counts, it seems.”

“He’s a good guy,” I agreed. “There’s a reason I wanted him with me.”

“I get it now, I think.”

“If you want this project to be a positive thing, at least at our school, you’ll want more Jaspers. You wanted a verdict on the kids you sent with me? I wouldn’t put them in leadership roles. Not if there are going to be capes on scene. What I heard and saw wasn’t very positive, and if there were any who disagreed, they didn’t feel confident enough to say it out loud.”