I said nothing.
He nudged my chin with his swollen knuckle and forced me to look at him. The wrinkles in the corners of his eyes tightened when he looked me over, studying me as though I didn’t inherit most of his features.
We had the same muted gray eyes that kept us looking more villain than hero. I wore my dark hair long in the front, using the curled ends as a privacy curtain. He kept his real close to his scalp, effectively cutting away any distractions and daring people to look him in the eye.
There were no other versions of Arthur St. James.
He was all midnight. All the time.
“Foster Lake’s parents have decided not to renew their funding this year.”
I blinked.
Was he… shocked?
Their son’s blood was still smeared across our campus.
“I suppose I was naïve to believe when investigators ruled his death as accidental, they’d be more inclined to support the home they’d chosen for their son.”
A home they’d chosen haphazardly.
The samehomethat had killed him.
Every day I wondered if they regretted giving him away, and whether they mourned his death or celebrated it.
“The board believes we haven’t done enough for Foster’s family, so they’ve decided to have a plaque made in memory. It’ll be placed in the garden closest to the spot he perished. A ceremony will be held when all is said and done. It’s best if you don’t attend.”
The exile felt like a kick to the chest. It wasn’t an unexpected blow, but the pain was no less potent as it lanced through my muscles. My nostrils flared with the heat of the hurt.
“I hope you’ll understand, Sebastian. The ceremony is supposed to be about Foster. Your presence would craft an unwelcome distraction that’d take away the purpose of the day.”
He wasn’t wrong.
The truth that danced around his ugly words hurt more than the banishment.
I curled my fingers into my palms, squeezing just enough that I felt the blunt tip of my nails pierce the top layer of my skin. I wanted toscreamat him—to spit in his face and throw my fists into all the same places he’d thrown his. To pull his hair and wrap my hand around the base of his throat, squeezing just enough to frighten him but not enough to leave marks.
I wanted to toss him off a balcony and watch as his blood washed away the remnants of Foster's.
My anger was heady, and I knew he could smell it because his lips curled upward, issuing a challenge. He rolled his palms together, flashing me the inscriptions on his rings, and took a single, heavy step toward me.
Just like that… I relented.
Fear came crashing in, slamming down on my anger like a set of steel shutters.
He chuckled when he saw the switch, eyes brightening. “I’m glad you agree.”
I nodded… and a piece of me hated myself for it.
“Have a wonderful day, son.” He said, right before he flashed me a smile and walked away.
I wasn’t fond of the way my hands shook when I reached for my hood and pulled it back over my head. Animosity tapped at my chest, and for as brave as my thoughts were, my body couldn’t help but remember what those rings felt like when they slammed into the tender skin that covered my stomach.
Five months.
Five more months… and then I was free.
I kept my arms around my middle as I shuffled through the foyer. Students took turns passing by me, hips angled and shoulders stiff. They built themselves a barrier of safety, ensuring the berth was wide enough that not even my strongest breath could touch their skin.