The soft hum of the engine filled the sleek interior of the limo, creating a steady rhythm that blended with the faint jazz drifting from the built-in speakers. Mrs. Clarke sat confidently at the wheel, her posture sharp and composed as she navigated the neon-lit streets.
In the back, Liliana was practically glowing, her face pressed close to Sylvester's arm as she scrolled through her phone, reliving moments from the theme park. "Look, look!" she giggled, shoving the screen toward him. "You actually screamed on the roller coaster—don't even try to deny it!"
Sylvester lounged in the corner, his elbow resting against the window, cheek lazily propped in his hand. He didn't even glance at the screen. His gaze was fixed on the city whizzing by outside, the lights blurring into streaks of white and blue.
For Liliana, today had been nothing short of perfect. For him, it felt… irrelevant. The date was just a minor detour a promise kept, nothing more. He let her chatter, her laughter, her boundless energy wash over him like distant waves.
Beneath his calm exterior, his thoughts wandered elsewhere. From the moment I transferred here… every step, every choice has led me to this. To Ellie. To vengeance.
Her name sparked a sharp ache within him, a reminder of the warmth that once filled his life, now snatched away too soon.
He tightened his grip on his knee, knuckles turning pale under the weight of memories. This wasn't the life I wanted. I never asked to bear the burden of her death. But fate… fate never bothered to ask what I wanted in the first place.
The city lights flickered across his face, casting shadows under his eyes as he sat in silence. Next to him, Liliana's laughter rang out again, innocent and carefree, a stark contrast to the storm brewing quietly within him.
Mrs. Clarke caught a glimpse of her reflection in the rearview mirror, her sharp eyes lingering for just a moment. She held her tongue for now.
The limo eased to a stop as it glided into the long, stone-paved driveway of the academy, its towering spires silhouetted against the night sky. The gentle hum of the engine faded away as Mrs. Clarke expertly parked the vehicle right by the entrance.
With a soft click, the rear door swung open. Liliana was the first to hop out, stretching her arms overhead with a cheerful yawn. "Ahhh, nothing beats coming back to school after a day out!" she exclaimed, beaming.
Sylvester followed at a slower pace, his hands tucked deep in his pockets, his gaze briefly lifting to the tall academy gates before darting away.
Mrs. Clarke stepped out too, shutting the driver's door behind her. The sound of her heels clicking against the cobblestones echoed as she approached them, her usual calm authority wrapping around her like a comforting cloak.
"You both did well today," she said gently, her eyes first landing on Sylvester, then shifting to Liliana. "But remember don't overdo it. This mission isn't something you can rush. You'll need your strength, your clarity, and most importantly… your composure."
Her voice carried a weight that made her words hang in the air long after she spoke.
Liliana nodded eagerly. "Got it. Rest and breathe. Simple enough!"
Sylvester offered a slight nod, his expression hard to read.
Mrs. Clarke's lips curled into the faintest smile. "Good. Now, make sure to get some rest. Both of you."
With that, she turned back to the limo, her silhouette blending into the sleek black vehicle as she slipped inside. The engine roared to life, and in no time, the car vanished down the road, leaving the two of them standing beneath the warm glow of the academy lamps.
Liliana stretched once more before looking over at Sylvester. "So, back to the dorms?"
He gave a subtle nod, and together they began their walk toward the towering school buildings, their footsteps echoing on the cobblestones. The cool night air wrapped around them, creating a stillness that felt almost delicate, especially with the storm brewing just beyond the horizon.
Inside the hospital ward, Regan's screams pierced the air. His voice was strained and raw with pain as he struggled against the restraints of the bed. Sweat poured down his face, and the bandages around his torso were already soaked with fresh blood.
"Mom! Mom—it hurts! It hurts so much!" he cried, his voice breaking into desperate sobs.
His mother held his hand tightly, her face pale and shaking. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to comfort him. "What happened to my son? What did they do to him?!" Her voice trembled, heavy with fear and disbelief.
Meanwhile, his father stood in the corner of the room, phone pressed hard against his ear. His face was flushed with anger, veins bulging in his neck as he shouted into the receiver.
"Get the lawsuit ready. Now!" he barked. "My son is crippled—do you understand? Crippled! Nothing else matters more than this!"
The voice on the other end attempted to respond, but he cut them off with another furious shout. "I don't give a literal fuck how much it costs! Do you hear me? I don't give a damn about the fees! Get me the best lawyers top-notch, untouchable the kind even God Himself couldn't afford!"
His wife flinched at the intensity of his voice, holding Regan tighter as if her grip alone could ease his suffering.
Regan's father continued, his tone sharp as a knife. "I want results. I want names, documents, everything ready. Report back to me immediately. Understood?"
There was a brief silence on the line.
"Good," he snarled, slamming the phone down with a fierce snap.
The room descended back into chaos the sound of Regan's screams, his mother's sobs, and the heavy silence of a father whose rage had now sharpened.