Julian’s taller. How is he taller? In two weeks? He’s got a hoodie on with the school crest, hair slightly messy, jaw more defined, and I feel a pang so sudden it makes my ribs ache.
And Lila. My Lila.
She’s in uniform—navy blazer, pleated skirt, polished shoes—probably imported, definitely over-designed. Everything about this place whispers legacy and pressure.
I know that look.
Her posture straight, chin lifted just a little too high. She looks fine.
Except she doesn’t.
She’s not talking to anyone. No friends. No side conversations. Not even a fake smile.
And that’s not her.
Lila makes friends everywhere—grocery stores, elevators, once at a dentist’s office in the middle of a cavity. But these kids? These aren’tnormalkids. These are the kind who get birthday presents wired from offshore accounts and think empathy is a debating skill.
She’s pretending she’s fine.
She’s always been good at pretending.
Until she sees me.
Her face crumples in a way that punches straight through my chest, and she takes off at a full sprint like the hallway’s on fire.
I barely drop my bag in time before she barrels into me.
“Okay, ouch,” I wheeze. “Have you been working out with the military?”
“You’re here!” she yells into my coat.
“I am.” I grin, burying my face in her hair. “In the flesh. Did you miss me or just the snacks I sneak you?”
“Both.”
Julian walks over slower. More reserved. His face doesn’t give much away—never has. But his eyes scan me like he’s trying to make sure I’mactuallyhere. Like I might disappear if he blinks.
He doesn’t hug me. Not right away.
“You’re here.”
“I promised I’d visit,” I say, reaching out and smoothing down the front of his hoodie like some out-of-touch suburban mom. “You think I’d miss watching you two live out your elite boarding school drama? Please. I’m here for the full season arc.”
That gets me a flicker of a smirk. Barely there.
And then he pulls me in.
It’s not quick. It’s not casual. It’s strong. Solid.
Too grown up.
“I missed you,” I whisper against his shoulder. “I missed youbothso much.”
He lets go first but stays close. Always watching. Always making sure I’m okay in that quiet, serious way of his.
“I’m proud of you,” I say, just for him. “How’s everything?”
He shrugs, eyes scanning the courtyard like someone might be listening. “It’s fine.”
