Chapter 12: The Orientation Call

The call with Cascade was at two that afternoon.

I took it at the kitchen table with four people behind my chair.

Maggie had taken the day off. Pete had brought a tray of muffins.

Miles stood by the window and didn't touch anything.

On the screen, the director of the sound design program sat in a bright office with a bookshelf behind her.

She was in her fifties, with short gray hair and reading glasses pushed up on her forehead.

My admission file lay open in front of her.

"Ms. Dunning," she said. "Thank you for making time."

"Thank you for hearing me out."

"We received the video this morning, along with an email from the young woman who posted it."

She folded her hands. "It describes you as unstable and says you stole her phone. I would like your side."

My heart was pounding, but my voice came out steady.

"It's true that I took her phone," I said. "I'd like to show you why."

"Please."

"Maggie, share your screen."

Maggie leaned over my shoulder and pressed a key.

The full recording from the party played, four minutes long, starting from the moment I said, "Pete, plug it in."

The director listened with her head tilted.

When the chime came, two soft beeps, she lifted her eyebrows.

When the voices started, she took off her glasses.

I let it run to the end, to Whitney saying she had turned the volume all the way down, and to my answer.

Nobody but me.

Then I shared the second file, the photographer's three minutes from the top of the ladder.

I told her about the glasses.

I told her about the lecture room, and about the text Whitney had shown Miles, a text I had never written.

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