Tyla's steps felt heavy as she cut across the quad, the day's small cruelties still humming in her ears — the whispered "Did you know about Harper and Logan?", the looks that never quite met her eyes. She'd sent Harper a quick message earlier and then spent the last hour worrying in place until her phone replied: Gone for a walk. Might head to the park.
That should have been enough, but the worry sat like a brick in her stomach.
She almost didn't notice the long shadow falling over the path until it belonged to someone. Damian was coming toward her, hands in his coat pockets, eyes steady. He looked like he always did — composed in a way that made everyone else feel raw — but tonight there was something taut about him, the set to his jaw that didn't suit his usually indifferent posture.
