Page 89 of Vicious King

A man and a woman wait for us near the front doors, and when Carson steps out of the car, he takes my hand, helps me out, and with our fingers linked, leads me over to them.

“Mr. and Mrs. St. James, I’m Albert Smithers, the principal of the school, and this is Carla Johnson, the head of our board of directors.”

They both smile as they shake our hands, and Carson, because he’s Carson, looks like he’s ready to murder someone.

“Come, let us show you around,” Mr. Smithers says, and we fall in step behind him.

“Stop it with the glaring,” I hiss at my husband.

“This is just my face,” he returns, and I roll my eyes.

We’re shown to a cafeteria, the gym, a music room, and the library.

“Everyone is in class right now,” Carla says. “But it’ll be loud and crazy in here between classes. The elementary school is in the next building, and we’ll show you that next. We have excellent sports programs, foreign languages, fine arts.”

I admit, everything looks new and well kept, and when we get to the elementary school, I can picture Charlie here, playing on that amazing playground and making friends.

Finally, we’re led to the principal’s office, and we all take a seat.

“What questions can we answer?” Mr. Smithers asks.

“What is the student-to-teacher ratio?” I ask.

“Is it going to be a problem that I have four guards with my kid at all times,” Carson asks at the same exact time.

Priorities, am I right?

“Many of our students have their own private security details,” Mr. Smithers says with a nod. “So we’re used to that, but could we negotiate that down to two guards? We have a limited amount of space.”

“I’ll start with two, but if they report that we need more, I’ll add them.”

“That’s fair,” Carla says, “but I think you’ll find that you and Charlie both feel at ease here. I’m sure you saw the security we keep on staff, and that’s just what you were able to see. We take safety very seriously here, and we know that our students come from families that require more protection. It’s the whole reason we’re here.”

“And regarding your question,” Mr. Smithers says, smiling at me. “In the class that Charlie would be in, there are fourteen students and two teachers.”

I feel my eyebrows climb in surprise. “Seriously?”

“That’s right,” he assures me.

“And what does my million-dollars-a-year tuition get me?” Carson asks, and my tongue is immediately stuck to the roof of my mouth.

A million dollars a year?

Jesus Christ, each kid should get their own teacher!

“You don’t need to provide any school supplies at all, aside from a backpack,” Carla says. “It covers all meals, including breakfast, lunch, and a snack. There are no fees for sports or music or anything, really. Uniforms are also included.”

“You also get peace of mind that your child is safe,” Mr. Smithers reminds us.

Carson stares at the other man for a moment and then nods once.

“I’ll speak with my wife, and we’ll be in touch.”

“Wait.” I reach out and take Carson’s hand. “I don’t think we need to speak privately.”

“We’ll give you a minute anyway,” Mr. Smithers says as he and Carla leave us alone in the office.

“A million dollars?” I demand. “Carson, that’s insane.”