Instead, every instinct in me twitches. Too open. Too visible. Too many exits.
I force myself to breathe.
“Mr. Kuraken!” one of the kids yells. “You’re late!”
“Am I?” I grin, crouching to their level. “Then I guess I owe the class ten glitter stars.”
“Twenty!” a girl pipes up.
“Fifteen and not a star more.”
They giggle. I can fake normal. I can fake it all day if I have to.
But as I walk down the hall, the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Someone’s watching me.
I spot him near the display of class projects—the glitter-and-glue dioramas of “Our Solar Neighborhood.” He’s out of place immediately: sharp suit, expensive shoes, the kind of posture that belongs in a boardroom, not a school hallway.
Maliek.
Kairo’s agent. The one with too many opinions and not enough boundaries.
I slow my pace.
He notices me and smiles like we’re old friends. “Mr. Kuraken.”
“Mr. Haines,” I say evenly. “Can I help you with something?”
He gestures around with mock admiration. “Charming place. Very… wholesome.”
“It’s a school.”
“So I gathered.”
We stand there, tension masquerading as civility. The hallway empties around us—teachers herding kids into classrooms, doors closing one by one until it’s just us and the faint hum of the ventilation system.
I cross my arms. “You don’t look like you’re here for career day.”
He tilts his head. “You’re sharper than the file said.”
“What file?”
He doesn’t answer. Just smiles that publicist smile again, all teeth and politics. “I’m here to check on Ben.”
My jaw tightens. “Check on him?”
“He’s important to Kairo,” Maliek says smoothly. “And by extension, to me. I look after her interests. Herfamily’sinterests.”
I take a step closer. “You’re heragent, not her husband.”
He doesn’t flinch. “Details.”
The urge to bare my teeth hits me hard. I swallow it down. The air between us thickens.
Maliek straightens his cuffs. “She’s meeting me later. We’re discussing Ben’s future.”
“What about it?”
“Oh, the usual—schooling, guardianship, publicity… opportunities. He’s a bright kid, you know. Adorable. Marketable.”
