Page 76 of See Me After Class

"Hello, dear."

"You…" I whispered. "You?"

My question hung in the air, a fragile thread unraveling in the silence. Then, as if triggered by my words, a sudden movement flickered in the corner of my eye. Before I could turn, a crushing weight slammed into the side of my head, the world shattering.

My head smacked the floor. Stars exploded before my eyes. The wind was knocked clean out of me.

Pain cracked through my skull like a sledgehammer, shattering the silence. I stumbled, my legs like jelly, my vision blurring.

Above me, that face swam into view. Sunlight caught in their eyes—hard chips of obsidian, glinting with malice. A smile, a predator's grin, devoid of warmth. There was no love, no understanding in that expression, just cold calculation.

My fingers clawed at the dust, desperate to flee, but the world tilted in a dizzying spiral. The smile, the eyes, the face, they were the last things I saw before darkness swallowed me whole.

31

John

The crystal decanter glinted accusingly in the dim light, reflecting the storm brewing in my gut. My fingers traced the rim, the chill seeping through the glass a poor imitation of the icy grip fear had clamped on my heart.

Why are you afraid? You're the one who let her go.

Rich,I responded drily to the voice in my head.Weren't you telling me that I was losing my grip on my sanity?

To be fair, I still think you are. But you categorically told her to fuck off, and she did. What gives, John?

I didn't know. My last encounter with Dessie had left me raw, a flayed nerve exposed to the harshness of reality. Her quiet defiance, the veiled hurt in her eyes, had cut deeper than any blade. I realized now that I'd dismissed her far too cruelly, perhaps in my haste to curb the rising tide of protectiveness I felt toward her.

Didn't you say something about her going to warm someone else's bed?

I groaned inwardly. What the hell was I thinking? There had to have been a better way to handle things, but she got on my nerves with the endless spiral of lies. One after the other, seemingly never-ending.

She had no family, that much was certain.

Now, guilt gnawed at my insides, a relentless parasite feasting on my sanity. Pushing the decanter aside, I slammed open the ledger to look at the cold numbers of the Institute's finances for the umpteenth time. The pressure, the constant, gnawing uncertainty, all of it was a suffocating cloak I couldn't seem to shed.

A knock on the door, sharp and insistent, shattered the oppressive silence. Leon, his usually jovial face etched with worry, filled the doorway. "John," he said, his voice a low rumble, "have you seen Dessie? She wasn't at breakfast, and her room's empty."

My throat tightened. "She's… she's on leave," I rasped, the words scraping against my raw nerves.

Leon's brows furrowed. "Leave? Just like that? Without a word?"

Shame, a bitter pill, burned my tongue. I couldn't lie to him. Not anymore. "She was here last night," I confessed, my voice dropping to a whisper. "I didn't give her the best send-off, I'm afraid."

Leon gave me a once-over before pulling back the chair in front of my desk. He dropped down on it and stretched his hands in front of me. "What do you think is going on, really?"

I raised a brow at him. "Are you asking for my opinion or approval? Because the latter doesn't really depend on me."

He smiled wanly. "Let's say it's a yes from her, although she's the hardest book I've ever tried to read. Would you be alright with it?"

The question had lingered in my mind too. It would, actually, be fine. I didn't look at Dessie as something I needed to possess all by myself. In fact, my feelings about her seemed to change and transition all the time. She was far too independent, her moods mercurial. From what I'd seen, she wouldn't be comfortable within the confines of one suffocating relationship. And I didn't want that for her.

Right now, the only thing that mattered was getting her to a place where she felt comfortable sharing her truth with us. If she did, and if things actually did work out—ever—I was okay with her deciding what trajectory she wanted the relationship to take.

"There's something I haven't told you about her."

Before I could fess about her going through documents in my office, the door burst open and Viktor emerged, his face ashen.

"John." He faltered momentarily at the sight of Leon. "Oh, hello."