Chapter 43 Finding Truth
I wanted to ask, “From what exactly?” but before the words could form fully, his back was already turned. I called out, the question shifting mid-breath, but he disappeared into the hallway before I could reach the end of the sentence. The emptiness he left behind felt louder than any answer he could have given.
“Where are we going?” Oliver asked again.
I didn’t answer, not because I didn’t want to, but because I genuinely didn’t know. My body was moving before my mind caught up. My legs were already carrying me down the corridor, past hanging banners and framed school accolades, toward one place: the infirmary.
“Lexie!”
His hand shot out, catching mine before I could take another step. His palm was warm, grounding, almost urgent. I stopped, turning slowly to face him. His brows were pulled together, eyes searching mine like he could dig answers straight from my pupils.
“What’s going on?” he asked, voice hushed but fraying at the edges. “Did that psycho say something that hurt you?”
The concern, the curiosity, the anxiety, it was all there, unfiltered. His thumb pressed slightly into my hand as if bracing himself for the truth.
My eyes drifted right before I could stop them, toward the ward where Felix was. Through the small glass panel, a nurse was tending to what remained of his severed index finger. Felix was lying stiffly on the bed, jaw clenched, eyes wet from either pain or humiliation, or both.
Oliver followed my gaze.
“Him?” Oliver whispered, leaning slightly to see clearer. “Are you going to question him about what happened in the cafeteria?”
“No,” I replied quietly, “I’m just curious—”
“Curious about what?” he pressed, stepping a fraction closer.
I turned fully this time, meeting his eyes head-on. The intensity in them startled even me. “Do you think what happened in the cafeteria was ordinary?” I asked. “Do you think Marcus would intentionally cut someone’s finger off without reason?”
He blinked once, taken aback. “You’re starting to sound upset, Lexie,” he said, tone softer now but threaded with caution. “Do you think you’re taking this too far?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head slightly. “No, I’m not, Oliver.”
He sighed, lifting his other hand to rake gently through his hair, frustration and worry mingling. “Okay,” he relented, voice lowering to something steadier. “Then let’s step outside and talk where no one can overhear.”
His fingers curled around mine again, firmer, deliberate, and guided me out of the infirmary. Outside, the air was sharper, colder, carrying the scent of trimmed grass and distant rain.
“I know exactly what I’m saying,” I insisted, voice small but certain.
“I know,” he said, nodding once. “You never speak nonsense.”
I exhaled through my nose, breath slow, long, weighted. “Then we have to find Marcus.”
His left eyebrow arched. “For what?”
“For answers,” I said quickly, gesturing slightly with my free hand as thoughts spilled faster than structure. “Where has he been since he went missing? Who did he meet? Why is he so strange? And…” my voice faltered, eyes drifting down for a beat, “...more.”
Oliver’s lips tugged into a crooked smirk, humorless but protective. “And you think Marcus will hand over those answers without drama?”
“You won’t know until you try,” I said. The words tasted like nostalgia. Aunt Harvey used to say that.
My mind spun again, frantic, searching. “Where would they have taken him to?” I whispered to myself.
Oliver crossed his arms loosely, not dismissive, but thoughtful, index finger tapping lightly against his bicep. “If Marcus caused a scene, protocol says he’ll be placed in the Quiet Dorm.”
My head lifted. “Where’s that?”
He unfolded his arms and pointed gently over his shoulder, the gesture slow enough to soften the blow of the words. “Behind the school campus. It’s the isolation wing for students who start behaving… abnormally after high-stress incidents.”
I stared at him for a moment. The distance between us felt like the pause before something irreversible. “Then that’s where we’re going,” I said.
He sighed again, softer this time, then gave a single nod. “Alright. Let’s go.”