“You think he meant Rendel.”
“I do. And Rendel disappeared.”
Keegan nodded once, slow and measured. “Caleb mentioned he’d disappeared at some point, but he didn’t know exactly when.”
The quiet stretched felt fuller and heavier.
If Rendel helped us, why would he try to hurt us?
But then I thought of Gideon and how often his choices contradicted one another.
“That doesn’t clear Rendel,” I said softly. “Or make him the fall guy.”
“No,” Keegan agreed. “It absolutely doesn’t.”
“It just makes it harder to understand who to trust.”
“Yes.” He nodded. “But I would never trust my father.”
I folded my arms slightly, more out of habit than anything else, my thoughts moving faster now as the pieces refused to settle into something clean.
“I don’t like the timing,” I continued. “I don’t like the way Gideon looked at me when he said what he said. And I don’t like that Rendel isn’t here now.”
Keegan let out a slow breath and nodded. “True.”
There wasn’t anger or bitterness in his response, just fact.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
“I know,” he replied. “Thanks, Maeve. But he’s the one who should be apologizing to my mom, Stonewick…the Academy.”
“And you.”
He nodded. “He won’t.”
The way he said it told me he knew exactly what that meant.
And exactly what it didn’t.
I studied him for a second longer, watching the way the light from the Academy caught along the edge of his face, the way he held himself like someone who had already made peace with things he hadn’t said out loud yet.
“Does it bother you?” I asked.
He didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he looked out toward the edge of the grounds, toward the darkness beyond where the Wards held steady.
“Not in the way you’d think,” he said.
I waited, holding his hand.
“It’s not about whether he shows up or leaves,” he continued. “That’s who he is. It always has been.”
“And you’re okay with that?” I asked.
He shook his head slightly. “No. I mean, I even thought he’d passed away.”
That answer came more easily for him.
