Chapter 7: The Dean

The hearing room was on the second floor of the administration building, with a long oak table and a portrait of a dead university president.

Five students sat on one side in blazers they had clearly borrowed.

Brock was in the middle with his arm in a sling he did not need.

The lineman sat on his left. The skinny kid with the phone sat on his right, as pale as paper.

On the other side of the table sat a man in a gray suit with a thin leather folder.

He was not a student, and he was not the dean.

He was introduced as "counsel for the Merrick family," and he smiled at me with half his mouth.

I sat across from them with my roommate on one side and Josiah's lawyer on the other.

The lawyer had driven up from Columbus at six that morning.

"Say nothing," he had told me in the hall. "Let them go first."

The dean sat at the head of the table.

She was a small woman with short gray hair and reading glasses on a chain, and she looked like she hadn't slept either.

"We are here to review the events in the engineering lot on Saturday night," she said. "Mr. Merrick, you filed the complaint. Please begin."

Brock stood.

"I was walking to my car with my friends," he said. "Gilligan came out of nowhere."

"He had a bat. He broke it over his knee, and he threatened to kill us."

A murmur went around the table.

"He broke a metal bat over his knee?" the dean said.

"He's strong, ma'am. You've seen the video from the cafeteria."

"I have."

"He's dangerous. He's on something."

The gray-suited lawyer opened his folder and slid a flash drive across the table.

"Footage from Mr. Merrick's friend," he said smoothly. "Taken during the incident."

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