"Yeah. Six years ago, we... we split. I wasn't part of Olei's life. But now I've got some financial stability, and I want custody. I know it's a long shot, but I can't live without Olei. And Silas won't let me stay in his life."
Julian went quiet for a few seconds.
"You sure about this, Anthea?" His tone was heavy. "I just looked up Silas Thorne. He runs the Thorne Group. Power like that—your odds are brutal."
I already knew what he'd say. I stared out the window at the buildings blurring past. "I know. But I have to try. And if you can't help me, I get it."
Anyone with half a brain knew what going up against the Thorne Group meant.
"Alright." Julian sighed, his voice dry. "I'll figure something out. Don't worry. I'll reach out to my mentor, see if there's an angle we can work."
"Julian, you sure you're okay? You really sound terrible."
"Just a cold. Don't worry about me." He forced a laugh. "Stay in touch."
"Thank you, Julian."
I hung up and sagged against the seat. Whatever happened, I had to keep it together.
The bus stopped near the school. I fixed my expression and followed the crowd off. Cold wind sliced into my collar, making me shiver. Inside the building, the hallway buzzed with students' laughter and chatter. My lips curved up on their own.
The second I pushed open the office door, a wave of heavy floral scent hit me.
"Well, well, look who's here!" Sarah's voice rang out dramatically. "Our very own Ms. Carter—star of the day."
Sarah taught art—short hair, gossip fiend, but good-hearted. She leaned against my desk, coffee in hand, grinning like a cat.
"What's going on?" I frowned.
She winked and stepped aside, revealing my desk.
I froze.
A massive bouquet of white dahlias sat there, hogging every spare inch of space. The blooms were huge, petals glistening with droplets like they'd just been plucked from a garden, glowing like pearls in the morning light.
"Anthea Carter, spill." Sarah elbowed me, eyes glittering with envy. "When did you snag a mysterious, romantic admirer? These are fresh. And way bigger than normal dahlias."
I didn't answer. Just stared at the flowers.
I knew exactly who sent them.
"Some people seem to have forgotten this is a school, not a bar." A sharp, bitter voice cut from the corner.
I didn't need to turn around. Marcus. Gym teacher. Mid-thirties, full of himself, still single. I'd politely turned down his dinner invite when I first started, and he'd held a grudge ever since, taking every chance to tear me down.
He sat there spinning a whistle between his fingers, eyes flicking between me and the flowers with contempt.
"This kind of display? Bet she's hooking up with some student's rich daddy." He let out a harsh laugh. "These young female teachers—all sweet and innocent on the surface, who knows what they're really doing behind the scenes."
The office went dead silent. The other teachers who'd been watching us suddenly found their papers very interesting.
"Hey! Marcus, what the hell?" Sarah bristled. "Everyone saw how you drooled over Anthea the first day. Can't get a date so you trash-talk her? That's just jealousy."
"Jealous?" Marcus looked like he'd heard a joke, his face smug and punchable. "I'm just stating facts. New teacher shows up, gets a giant bouquet within days. Who knows what she's been up to?"
My face burned. Humiliation made my fingertips shake.
"Marcus, if you spent half the time you waste spreading rumors actually working on your lesson plans, maybe our class wouldn't have come in dead last on the fitness test."
