He started with Anna.
The handshake, the quiet, the class that had gone fine. He even mentioned that sociology might be his favorite subject now.
Then the parking lot, the text, the decision to go to the office. He kept that part short because the next part was better.
"The crying was coming from the side path between B and C block," he said.
"And?" Lucy prompted.
"I recognized the voice."
"Anna."
"Yeah. And remember the guy with the black eye?"
Bryan's hand adjusted on the wheel, just slightly. "The upperclassman from the room."
"Same one."
Lucy went still in the backseat, which was unusual for her. "Was he hurting her?"
"He had her wrist." Alice paused. "Tight. Her things were on the ground. She'd been crying for a while."
For a moment the car was just road noise.
"And the stick," Bryan said.
"It was there," Alice said.
"Of course it was," Lucy said, in the tone of someone who had known this specific person for fifteen years and found nothing about this surprising. "Was it a good stick?"
"Decent. Didn't break."
"Sturdy."
"Sturdy," Alice agreed.
"The upperclassman?" Bryan said it like a statement.
"He had two black eyes now," Alice said. "Matching."
A short silence.
"Two," Bryan repeated.
"Very even. August did a thorough job."
Lucy made a sound like someone had knocked all the air out of her gently. She covered her mouth with both hands. Her shoulders started going.
"He really committed to matching it," she managed.
"He really did."
She dissolved. Fell sideways into the backseat and laughed the real kind, the one with no dignity in it. Bryan was smiling, ears going pink.
"Imagine my shock when he turned around," Alice said, once Lucy had calmed enough to hear him. "Even for me, that was unexpected."
"You almost laughed," Lucy said, still a little breathless. "In the middle of it."
"Almost."
"Did he see?"
"He saw me holding my hand over my mouth."
Lucy wheezed again.
"I hit him with the stick anyway," Alice added, and that sent her back over the edge completely.
Bryan's ears went a deeper pink.
"Then four guys showed up," Alice said, waiting for Lucy to return to functional. "One of them was Ethan. My classmate from the morning."
"He waved at me," Alice continued. "In the middle of everything."
"Classic," Lucy said.
"There was also one called Steve who tried to take my hand."
Bryan looked at him. "Tried."
"I moved it."
"Good." A small exhale.
Lucy had resurfaced, chin propped on Alice's headrest. "And the others?"
"One walked straight past me without a word. Went directly for the upperclassman." Alice thought for a moment. "The last one told me I could leave. That they'd handle it. Not in a threatening way. Just straightforward." He paused. "He reminded me a little of Bryan."
Bryan glanced at him. Then back at the road.
"I checked Anna first," Alice said. "She seemed okay with them being there. So I left."
Lucy was quiet for a moment. "Who are they?"
"No idea. But Ethan mentioned his friends are a year ahead of him. Probably that group."
"Anna knew them?"
"She wasn't afraid of them. That was enough."
Bryan filed that away in the quiet way he did with things that might matter later. Lucy sat back properly, which meant she was actually thinking rather than just reacting.
"Okay," she said. "And the principal."
Alice picked up the bag from the floor. "Aunt Mathilda."
Lucy sat forward again. "Mathilda Vance is the principal of our school."
"Apparently. No one told me."
"You didn't ask," Lucy said.
"I didn't know to ask."
"Me neither, actually," Bryan said.
Lucy leaned into the middle space. "Wait, seriously? I thought you both knew and I was the only one out of the loop."
Bryan looked at her through the mirror. "Why would I know that?"
Alice thought about the text. I forgot to pick it up last week. She'd already been here. She'd known and just hadn't said anything, the way she sometimes didn't say things until they were already in front of you.
"She probably enrolled all three of us here on purpose," he said. "That would be her."
Lucy exhaled. "And the bag?"
Alice reached in and held up the dark blue shirt. Lucy went quiet in a different way. Softer. She looked at it, then at Alice, and the brightness she usually kept on like a second skin had gone still for a moment.
"Mom's fabric samples and some pieces she lent Aunt Mathilda," Alice said. "She mixed in a few things for me." He folded the shirt and put it back. "She just said wear what I want. That was it."
"That's Aunt Mathilda," Lucy said carefully.
"Yeah." Alice looked out the window. "She worries too much. I'm fine."
"She's right to," Lucy said, and left it there. The kindest way she knew how to say it.
Alice didn't argue.
Bryan reached over and turned the radio on, low. Lucy leaned her head against the window. Alice held the bag in his lap and watched the road as the campus shrank in the side mirror and the afternoon light turned everything amber and slow.
The three of them rode home without saying much else.
That was fine too.