Chapter 17

Lina's POV

That gaze was very concealed, coming through gaps in the bookshelves, carrying an undisguised, probing malice, like a snake's forked tongue, lightly sweeping across my back, making all my muscles instantly tense.

I didn't immediately turn around, but maintained my original posture, my fingertips quietly reaching toward my backpack, where a folding knife was kept—something I'd brought out from Raven, always carried with me.

My brain raced rapidly, calculating the direction of the gaze's source, the opponent's distance, possible number of people, and the fastest counterattack route.

Three seconds later, I suddenly turned my head, looking in the direction the gaze came from.

However, the aisle between the bookshelves was empty, only sunlight falling on the floor, leaving grid-like patterns of light and shadow.

Never mind a person—there wasn't even a passing cat.

"Lina? What's wrong?"

Maggie walked over holding two books. Looking at my tense state, she followed my gaze with a puzzled expression. "What are you looking at? There's nothing there."

I withdrew my gaze, the pressure in my fingertips gradually relaxing, suppressing the wariness in my heart. "Nothing. I thought I saw a cat run past just now."

"A cat? Where?" Maggie's eyes instantly brightened. She moved to the window and looked down. "I didn't see any? Are there stray cats at school?"

"It probably ran away." I smiled, pushing down that unease.

Was it Alessandro who brushed past us in the hallway just now?

Or... had Raven's people already found this place?

Dmitri would absolutely not let me go easily.

I understood him too well. The weapon he personally crafted—even if destroyed, he would never allow it to fall into someone else's hands, much less allow it to escape his control.

Before, I'd stayed in Luca's apartment. His people guarded it so tightly that Raven's people couldn't find an opportunity to strike.

Now that I came to school every day, with crowds everywhere, I'd instead become the best target.

"Lina? You spaced out again." Maggie pushed the books in front of me, her finger tapping the cover of "The Great Gatsby." "The teacher wants us to write a book report. It's due next week. Have you thought about what to write?"

I looked at the name on the cover, remembering the passage she read aloud in the library last class, remembering that unreachable green light across the bay.

I shook my head. "Not yet."

"It's okay, we'll think of something together!"

Maggie pulled out a chair and sat across from me, opening the book and chattering about her ideas, eyes sparkling, completely unaware of my instantly tensed nerves just moments ago, and that gaze that had disappeared into the shadows.

Looking at her defenseless smiling face, my heart suddenly softened.

Regardless of whether Raven's people had come, regardless of how much danger lurked in the shadows, I couldn't drag her into this.

She was the first friend in my life, the first beam of light I'd touched in a normal life. I couldn't let this light go out because of me.

Maggie and I stayed in the library until lunch time. She was earnestly writing her book report while I copied literature class notes beside her.

I occasionally looked up, my gaze sweeping across rows of bookshelves, remaining vigilant for potential danger in the shadows.

"I'm so hungry. Let's go eat!"

At lunch in the cafeteria, Maggie pulled me to queue at the longest line.

"Today is Thursday. Thursday's fried chicken is the best." She stood on her tiptoes to peer ahead, her nose slightly wrinkling, like a meerkat scouting food locations. "Do you eat spicy food? Their spicy fried chicken is super amazing."

"I can eat a little."

The fried chicken was freshly made. The coating was golden and crispy. When you bit into it, it made a crisp sound, and hot steam poured out from the crack.

Maggie gasped from the heat but persisted in gnawing on the drumstick. Chili powder stuck to the corner of her mouth, and a fine layer of sweat appeared on her forehead.

She was so absorbed in eating, as if all the troubles worth worrying about in the world weren't worth disturbing this moment of focused communion between her and that drumstick.

Watching her, I found myself thinking again of what Luca had said.

"A normal person's life."

If a normal person's life was going to that sandwich shop every morning for a turkey breast sandwich, queuing with friends to buy fried chicken, secretly daydreaming while holding chocolate someone gave you during history class, looking forward to going to a friend's house on Saturday to eat cookies—then I was indeed slowly approaching it.

However, that guy I encountered in the hallway today reminded me of something.

Those things had never disappeared. They were just temporarily submerged beneath the surface, like a crocodile lurking with closed eyes in murky shallows.

And I now stood at the shore, one foot in sunlight, one foot still immersed in water.

I needed to remain vigilant of the crocodile that could open its eyes at any moment.

After Maggie ate her fill, she burped contentedly and once again grabbed my wrist to head outside.

She dragged me out of the cafeteria. On the field were jogging students, on the basketball court were boys playing ball, cheers rising and falling.

All of this was too vibrant, so vibrant I almost forgot how much blood was on my hands, how much danger followed behind me.

Behind the gymnasium at the base of the wall, there was indeed a cardboard box with three palm-sized kittens nestled inside, orange and white, who shrank timidly into a ball when they saw us approach, emitting thin meowing sounds.

Maggie crouched down and carefully squeezed the cat treat she carried onto the cardboard lid, her movements so gentle as if afraid of frightening them.

"Look, look, aren't they super cute? I told my mom, once they're a bit bigger, I'll bring one home to raise."

I crouched beside her, looking at those kittens, my fingertips moving slightly.

I had never touched a cat before.

At Raven's training camp, there were only cold weapons and endless training. Even living creatures were rarely seen, much less these fluffy, completely non-aggressive small animals.

A slightly bolder kitten slowly inched toward my hand, nuzzling my fingertip with its soft head.

A warm, soft sensation came through. My body instantly froze as if scalded, even my breathing lightening.

Maggie laughed beside me. "It likes you! Lina look, it's not afraid of you!"

I looked at that kitten nuzzling my fingertip. My heart suddenly felt like it had been gently bumped by something, going completely soft.

So this was what it felt like to be trusted by a defenseless life.