Gilpatrick ran his hand over the skin of his head, not giving me a response.

My arms were tired from propping myself up. I leaned forward instead.

“Alright. Thanks. Not good to hear, but I appreciate it,” he said. “I’ll take that under serious advisement.”

“They follow orders, at least.”

“I was really hoping to have more hands to help out,” he said. “Really unfortunate.”

Some parents were joining students who were talking to the police. I watched them. Parent and child side by side, parents concerned as they listened, getting the details at the same time the officers were.

“I am sorry this happened,” Gilpatrick said. “I meant it when I said it. I mean it now.”

“I gave my point-by-point retelling of events to the police,” I said. I stared at my hands. “Including the part where I was hit by a few emotion-affecting attacks. It’ll take some of the responsibility off your shoulders, if anyone asks.”

“It’s not that important,” he said. “Well, it’s important, obviously, thank you, but I don’t want to dwell on that. If people make an issue out of it, I’ll handle it. I knew what I was doing when I brought you on board. That’s not what I want to talk to you about.”

“I stuck around,” I said. “To be something like a guardian for the students who were acting as witnesses, making sure they weren’t pressed too hard or made uncomfortable. I stopped when I realized being there was making some things harder, because they didn’t like being around me, or that it looked like I was trying to protect myself by inserting myself into things and influencing their testimony.”

“Yeah,” Gilpatrick said.

“I backed off, Jasper and Landon took my cues, I think.”

“That’s good.”

I thought that’d be the time he followed the thread of the conversation and got around to saying what he needed to say. He didn’t.

There was a break in the convo. More cars were pulling into spaces along either side of the ‘square’ of grass, sidewalk, and fountain in front of the community center. Some more parents.

“Did they mention Fume Hood?” I asked.

“Only that she was taken to the hospital and all signs were good when she left. Tempera was staying close to her. Something to do with paint?”

No news then. “Tempera stopped the worst of the blood loss. She poured paint in the wound, shaped it, and solidified it. We might have lost Fume Hood in another way, though. We might not keep her as a hero after this.”

“Did she say that?”