Chapter 46:
Back in his office, the principal was fuming.
Who did that boy think he was?
So what if his father had a PhD?
So what if the man was "qualified enough to teach at a university"?
Homeschooling?
That just meant parents could lie all they wanted.
And the kid looked like a walking concussion anyway.
He huffed and dropped heavily into his chair. His hand hovered over the keyboard when—
every browser tab on the screen suddenly closed.
"What the—?"
A single image filled his monitor.
A graduation ceremony.
Dozens of smiling students in caps and gowns.
If someone looked closely… they would notice a younger version of him among them.
But what made his heart pause—just for a beat—
was a familiar girl standing a few rows ahead.
Lorraine.
Bright. Sharp. Brilliant.
Smarter than him, back then.
His lips twisted.
"Well, Lorraine…" he muttered, voice low.
"It seems you're not quite as impressive anymore."
His eyes narrowed.
"And your child…"
He leaned back, voice turning into a venomous whisper,
"…should still be in the hospital."
His fingers curled around his phone.
"I really don't know if you're safe to be a parent,"
he whispered, a smirk twisting his mouth.
He dialed.
"Let's make a few calls…"
A gray car rolled into the parking lot and squeaked to a stop. A second later, Lorraine stepped out from the driver's side, a black bag slung over her shoulder.
Before she closed the door, a faint blue hue flickered in the rear-view mirror—the little bottle pendant Eli had made for her.
She leaned back inside and picked it up, examining it as she shut the door. Blue streaks of light pulsed inside the glass.
Where did Eli get this?
She slipped it over her neck and adjusted it beneath her collar before searching her bag for her keycard.
"Oh—let me get that for you," a voice said from behind.
It was her boss.
"Thank you," she replied, stepping aside.
He was tall and old; a focused intensity clung to him like gravity.
He scanned his card. The gate buzzed open.
"I won't have to worry about you being late again, will I?" he joked lightly, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"I really hope not," Lorraine said, trying to sound casual.
Her fingers tightened around her bag as she felt his gaze drop downward.
"Where did you get that necklace?" he asked.
"My son gave it to me," she answered slowly. "I don't know where he found sand like that."
The man's eyes lingered.
"You should probably keep something like that hidden," he said quietly. "It could be dangerous here."
"Oh—yes. I'll… put it back in my car," she said quickly, forcing a small laugh.
"No."
His tone dropped lower.
"It might also be useful."
He turned and walked through the gate, leaving the warning hanging in the air.
Lorraine stared after him.
Was he insinuating that I use it on the patients…?
No.
She shook her head.
The idea was ridiculous…
Wasn't it?
She stepped inside and pulled the gate closed behind her.
Above her head, steel letters cast cold shadows across the pavement:
EICHEN HOUSE
The place where the mad and insane were supposed to heal.
Why, then… did it feel like the gates were designed to keep them all trapped?
Eli followed the secretary down the hallway, clutching his schedule too tightly. Students filled the space like a swarm, voices overlapping, footsteps pounding the floor.
This is terrible. Shouldn't they be in classes?
Worse than the noise was the staring. In the hospital, people knew how to mind their business.
Here?
Here he was some kind of zoo exhibit.
Locker doors slammed.
Laughter ricocheted off the walls.
"Who's the new guy?" someone whispered.
Another voice snickered,
"That's that kid who was in a coma."
"Oh damn—how's he even here? Can people just wake up from a coma like that?"
"Heard his mother attacked one of the deputies. She's crazy."
That was enough.
Eli's eyes glowed a faint gray.
Light surged through the hall as he turned toward the speakers.
But something felt… wrong.
The boy's essence snapped into focus:
Organs misplaced, twisted down into the throat, lungs choking, heart pounding too fast.
The hallway sounds slowed to a crawl, voices stretching into static.
He tried to shut his power off—
—but it didn't stop.
Everyone else faded into the background…
But the boy remained.
Eli wasn't seeing him with his eyes now.
He was hearing him.
Bo-dum.
A heartbeat.
Bo-dum. Bo-dum.
Faster. Louder.
BU-DUM. BU-DUM. BU-DUM—
The walls dissolved.
Eli's hand was around someone's throat.
Lifting.
Squeezing.
The boy's face was purple—mouth open in a silent scream.
They won't remember you.
And Eli smiled.
His grip tightened—
"Here we are!"
A bright, cheerful voice cut through the trance like a blade.
The hallway snapped back into place.
The boy was gone.
Like he'd never existed.
The secretary looked over her shoulder, smiling kindly… but then paused when she saw Eli's face.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
Eli's breath stuttered in and out, his hand shaking.
"I… I'm fine," he managed.
But his pulse was still racing.
What just happened?
The secretary's expression softened.
"Oh—it's okay," she said gently. "You'll see your mother later."
Eli blinked at her.
Of course I'll see her later. Why does everyone think I'm five?
"I'll go tell the teacher you're here. Take a moment to… feel better."
All the time in the world wouldn't fix that, he thought, throat still tight.
Then—
A tug. A familiar pull.
He lifted his head—
just in time to miss someone turning a corner… but he saw it.
A flash of metal.
Was that his ri—
"Ah! Young man!"
Eli jumped.
His new English teacher stood in the doorway, one hand raised.
"It's time to get settled. You've already missed quite a lot of classes."
Eli sighed and went inside.
Beacon Hills Hospital
Stiles paced the hallway so fast he was practically rewinding the tile pattern beneath his shoes. He scanned every door, every nurse, every passing cart.
His dad had told him last night:
"Eli O'Neil woke up."
Four years missing.
Suddenly back.
Stiles needed to see him.
School could wait.
Responsible decisions could wait.
If anyone asked, he was ready:
"Education is temporary. A supernatural medical miracle is forever."
Just then he saw her—
Ms. McCall walking down the hall, pulling off a surgical mask. Her head was down, buried in a chart.
Stiles rushed forward and popped right into her line of sight.
Ms. McCall let out a scream worthy of a horror movie, clutching her chest.
"Stiles! What the hell—shouldn't you be in school!?"
She didn't even give him time to answer before her eyes softened.
Of course she already knew why he was here.
She sighed—the kind of sigh adults use when they have to crush someone's excitement.
"Stiles…" she said carefully,
"Eli isn't here anymore."
Stiles froze.
"…What?"
Eli slipped into the classroom, doing everything in his power to look normal —
which only made him look more suspicious.
Twenty eyes tracked him like he was a wild animal set loose.
And honestly? He agreed.
The teacher gestured. "Just take any open seat, Eli."
He nodded stiffly, gaze sweeping the room—
As his eyes passed each person, a brief image of their essence — twisted completely wrong — filled his vision. It was as if he was looking at a classroom full of dead bodies staring back at him.
Forcing himself to continue looking, trying to ignore whatever the hell was happening, he stopped.
Someone his mind refused to see as just another body.
Scott.
He was staring back, eyes wide, face pale.
Like he was seeing someone who shouldn't be there.
Because… technically… he shouldn't.
Eli raised a hand and gave a tiny wave.
Scott blinked three times.
Eli took the empty desk beside him —
avoiding looking at anybody but Scott and the teacher.
The teacher was speaking about metaphors. Or similes?
Or metaphors pretending to be similes?
It didn't matter.
Eli just wanted to figure out what the hell was happening to him.
And seeing Scott might help —
but why was Scott still staring like that?
Was there something on his face?
Every thirty seconds.
Like clockwork.
Eli leaned slightly toward him.
Voice flat.
"My mother told me I was handsome. I didn't know it was to this degree."
Scott nearly choked.
"Y-You! You're—You saved me!"
Eli blinked. "I did?"
"At the road! The car! Something pushed me out of the way — I think that was you!"
Eli shrugged.
"Oh. Right."
He turned back to the front.
Scott whispered urgently, "How did you even—why were you there?"
"Didn't your mom teach you to look both ways before crossing?" Eli said.
"As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure I was there for that lesson."
Scott stared.
Confused. Completely lost.
"…How do you know my mom?"
Eli slapped his forehead lightly as Scott looked at him with even more confusion.
Great. I should've met the smart one first.
Just then the door opened.
Everyone looked.
Lydia Martin walked in — fashionably late and painfully confident.
Her eyes swept lazily across the room—
then stopped on Eli.
Not at him, but through him.
Looking at something no-one else could.
The rest of the class noticed her stare and immediately started staring too.
Eli stiffened.
Just when things were starting to feel normal…
Did he have beef with Lydia? Why didn't anyone tell him about it?
A chill crawled up his spine.
Too many eyes — and their owners… their owners weren't breathing.
Eli shot to his feet.
"I need the bathroom," Eli announced loudly.
The entire class froze.
Even the teacher blinked, unsure.
Eli gave a painfully wide smile, as if that would fix everything.
"I really have to pee."
And he walked out before anyone could question him.