Andria's POV
"Sir Kaelric," Becca repeated, this time in a whisper that somehow sounded louder than her shout.
The corridor swallowed her voice, and I pretended still not to have heard the last guess.
"Ari. You aren't cool at all," Becca muttered. "But I think I guessed right with the way you don't want to answer me."
Students passed by with luggage dragging behind them, laughter trailing, goodbyes exchanged too easily. Everyone was leaving. But the burden in my chest stayed, weighing me down together with the luggage in my hands.
I paused at the top of the stairs, fingers tightening around the handle of my bag.
"Don't be so sure," I finally replied to her.
"You didn't deny it," Becca said slowly, her excitement dimming into something sharper. "Aria… you didn't deny it."
I exhaled and turned to face her. "Lower your voice."
Her eyes widened. "So it's true."
"Yes," I said, the word tasting like surrender. "It's him."
