Chapter One
June, 2025
Dr. Kieran Walsh
I walkedout of the main doors of the Royal Northern College of Music feeling cold, numb and sick.
I don’t believe this.
I turned left on Oxford Road, functioning on auto pilot, my head still spinning. Around me, Manchester was its usual bustling, energetic self. The pavements were crowded with people, most of them in light clothing, enjoying the sunshine and warmth of a summer’s day.
The warmth that couldn’t penetrate the layer of ice shrouding me.
This is a dream. Any second now I’m going to wake up.
Ineededto wake up, and it wasn’t a dream—it was a nightmare.
A burly man barged into me and grumbled, and like a typical Brit, I apologised. I came to a halt on the street corner, trying to get my bearings. Portland Street. I knew where I was. I turned right and headed for Piccadilly Gardens.
That feeling of nausea still crawled up my throat.
What am I going to tell Diana?
The principal had been polite. She’d gone through the motions, explained the procedure, and I’d sat there, barely taking in a word. As I walked—except trudged was a more apt description—along the street, I replayed her words over and over, and it didn’t improve the situation.
By the time I reached the tram stop, my legs were having difficulty keeping me upright.
I can’t see how this will end.
I knew the truth, but that wasn’t important, it seemed. The wheels had been set in motion, and there was nothing I could do except wait for them to grind to a halt and reach the hopefully obvious conclusion—that whoever had started this travesty was a lying little bastard.
I got on the tram and found a seat. I stared through the window, but I couldn’t see the buildings, the people, the traffic.
All I saw was that damn email.
Could you come to my office at 11:00 this morning? HR will also be present.
I didn’t understand. It was supposed to be a routine faculty meeting with the principal in attendance, to discuss the autumn term.Why does HR need to be there?
That was enough to send a trickle of unease creeping through me.
The principal’s face when she opened the door and asked me to step inside only exacerbated the sensation. And seeing a representative from Human Resources seated at the desk, wearing a polite, neutral smile, a folder open in front of him, tightened my chest.
Dr. Williams gestured to the empty chair facing the desk, and I sat quickly, my heart thumping. She clasped her hands on the desk.
“Kieran, thank you for coming in at short notice.”
“Of course.” My voice felt distant to my own ears.
She took a breath, and I was overcome with the urge to get out of there,now, before whatever she had to say left her lips.
This is not going to be good.
“I’m afraid we need to discuss a serious matter that has been brought to the college’s attention.”
My stomach clenched. “What kind of matter?”
She straightened in her chair. “An allegation has been made by one of your students.”