“Whatever it is,” he says, brushing his thumb along my jaw, “we’ll handle it.”
I nod, letting his steadiness anchor me. He kisses my forehead before my dorm door shuts behind him. Then I pull on leggings, a loose black tee, and boots, tug my hair into a quick ponytail, and slip into the hall. The air is brisk and quiet.
By the time I reach the corridor outside Dean Everett’s office, I slow to a stop. All four of them are already there.
Tex leans against the wall, arms folded across his chest, wearing a dark long-sleeved shirt he must’ve thrown on. Noah stands beside him, scrolling absently through his tablet like he isn’t wound tight beneath the surface. Jace paces in a slow, deliberate line, hands in his pockets and jaw tight. And Luca—Luca looks like he just rolled out of bed and dared anyone to say something about it, his usual lazy grin nowhere in sight. A bruise blooms across his jaw.
Guilt floods my chest. They all look up when they hear my boots on the floor.
Jace is the first to speak. “Took you long enough.”
Tex pushes off the wall. “It’s not even ten yet. Chill.”
Jace continues to glare at me. I give it to him right back.
“What are you even doing here?” I cross my arms over my chest.
Jace scoffs. “I go where I want.”
“Okay,” I mock, rolling my eyes.
Theoffice door opens then, as if summoned by the weight of our silence. The assistant nods. “You can come in now.”
They aren’t walking ahead of me like they usually do. They walk with me. Whatever is about to happen… they are choosing to stand beside me.
Fluorescent lights hum overhead, bouncing off the polished wood of Dean Everett’s desk and the rows of bookshelves lining the walls. It smells faintly of coffee and old paper. I barely register any of it—because all I see is him.
River sits in one of the chairs across from the desk, a scowl etched deep into his face. One eye is swollen nearly shut, the skin around it darkening to an angry bruise. His lip is split, the dried blood flaking. His hair is messy like he couldn’t be bothered. He looks like hell.
And when he sees me, his jaw clenches tighter.
“Sit,” Dean Everett says without looking up from the tablet in his hands.
We do. I end up in the middle, flanked by Tex and Noah, while Luca drops into the chair beside the window like he couldn’t care less. He doesn’t even glance at River. But his fists are still curled.
Everett finally looks up.
His gaze scans the room, heavy with authority. “I want to be very clear. Fighting is grounds for suspension—potential expulsion if deemed serious enough. You are not above the rules just because your parents are generous donors or you hold academic privilege. This school maintains its standards for everyone.”
No one speaks.
Everett sets his tablet down. “I’ve reviewed the footage. It shows Mr. Silvain and Mr. Hale engaging in a physical altercation at the Halloween dance. But I also know it started long before the first punch was thrown.”
His eyes land on me. I sit a little straighter.
“I understand this incident had something to do with you, Miss Ashthorne. That makes you a witness.” He pauses. “So now, I’d like to hear your version. What happened last night?”
My palms are damp. I lace my fingers together and try to steady my voice.
“I’d just come back inside from the terrace,” I say slowly. “River came up and asked me to dance.” I swallow.
Out of the corner of my eye, I feel Tex tense.
“The music was… loud. People were dancing close.” I continue. “He pulled me against him. It was more than I was comfortable with, and I tried to step back. But he didn’t let go.”
River scoffs.
“Mr. Hale,” Dean Everett warns, not even looking at him.
