Chapter 76
Elara's POV
The bus engine hummed beneath me. I kept my earbuds in even though no music was playing. Safer that way. Less chance someone would try to talk to me.
I stared out the window. Trees blurred past. My reflection stared back at me in the dark glass. Pale. Tired. And behind me, two rows up, Victoria Harrington sat with her leather folder open on her lap.
I could see her in the window's reflection. She was looking down at papers, but every few minutes her eyes would lift. Not toward me. Just... scanning. Checking.
Our eyes met once in the glass. Just for a second. Then we both looked away.
My stomach twisted. That morning flashed through my head. Her screaming. Me interfering like an idiot.
I pressed my forehead against the cool window and closed my eyes.
Someone coughed a few rows back. Alice, probably. She'd been sitting in the far corner since we left, completely still. Like a statue. Or a weapon waiting to be picked up.
Tyler had finally shut up after the girl across from him called out his dad's failure. Now the bus was quiet except for the engine and the occasional rustle of someone shifting in their seat.
My phone buzzed.
Chloe: you ok?? haven't heard from you
I typed back quickly.
Me: Fine. Just tired. On the bus.
Chloe: be safe ok? and TEXT ME when you can
Me: I will.
I shoved the phone back in my pocket.
The bus started to slow down.
"Rest stop ahead," Warren called from the front. "Five minutes. Bathroom break. Get food if you want. Don't wander off."
The bus pulled into a rest area. Fluorescent lights. Vending machines. A few truckers standing by their rigs smoking.
I grabbed my bag and followed the others off the bus. The cold air hit my face. I sucked in a breath. Better. Clearer.
I headed for the bathroom. Small building. Cinder block walls. The door squeaked when I pushed it open.
Two stalls. Three sinks. Paper towel dispenser hanging crooked on the wall.
I went into the far stall and locked the door. Leaned my head against the cold metal. Counted to ten.
The bathroom door opened.
Heels clicked on the tile floor.
I froze.
"Elara?"
Victoria's voice.
I didn't answer. Maybe she'd think I wasn't here.
"I know you're in there."
Damn it.
I flushed the toilet even though I hadn't used it and came out. Victoria stood by the sinks. Her trench coat was still buttoned. Her hair still perfect.
She looked at me in the mirror. "Can I have a few minutes of your time?"
I turned on the faucet. Washed my hands. The water was too cold. "I need to get back to the bus."
"This won't take long."
I dried my hands on my jeans. The paper towel dispenser was empty. Of course it was.
Victoria walked to the door and checked outside. Then she came back and leaned against the sink next to me.
"I owe you an apology," she said.
I blinked. "What?"
"For that morning. By the art building." Her voice was calm. Controlled. Nothing like the broken woman who'd screamed at Kael. "I shouldn't have lost control like that. Especially not in front of a student."
My throat felt tight. "You don't need to apologize to me. That was between you and—"
"But you got involved." She turned to face me fully. "And I've been thinking about that. About why."
I crossed my arms. "I just thought it wasn't fair. What you said to him."
"Fair." She repeated the word like it tasted bitter. "Tell me something, Elara. Do you feel... sympathy for Kael?"
The way she said it. Like sympathy was a disease.
"I don't know what you mean."
"I think you do." Her eyes stayed on my face. Searching. "You defended him. You told me hating him wouldn't bring my son back. That's not something someone says unless they care."
My heart was beating too fast. "I don't—I barely know him."
"But you want to." Not a question. A statement.
I looked away. Focused on the cracked tile floor. Someone had written "JENNA WAS HERE" in Sharpie on the stall door.
"Elara." Victoria's voice softened. Just a little. "I'm not trying to attack you. I'm trying to warn you."
I looked up. "Warn me about what?"
She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "Do you know what it's like to raise a child who can't connect? Who looks at you with empty eyes?"
I didn't answer.
"Kael was different from the start." Her hands gripped the edge of the sink. Knuckles white. "He didn't cry like other babies. Didn't smile. When I held him, he just... stared. Like I was a stranger. Like I was nothing."
My stomach turned over.
"The doctors said it was a developmental delay. That he'd grow out of it." Victoria's laugh was hollow. "But he didn't. He got older and he learned to fake it. To mimic emotions. But there was nothing real underneath."
"People express emotions differently—"
"This isn't about expression." She cut me off. Sharp. "This is about absence. When Kael was seven, our dog died. Old age. Natural causes. I found Kael standing over the body. Just staring down at it. No tears. No sadness. Nothing."
I swallowed hard.
"I asked him if he was upset. And do you know what he said?" Victoria's voice dropped. "He said, 'Should I be?' Like he was asking what the correct response was. Like grief was a math problem he needed to solve."
The bathroom suddenly felt too small. Too cold.
"That's the Harrington curse," Victoria continued. "That bloodline. It doesn't just make them strong. It makes them hollow."
"That's not—"
"Have you ever seen Kael truly lose control?" She leaned closer. "Have you ever seen him angry? Scared? Genuinely happy? Or does he just show you what you want to see?"
My mouth went dry.
Because I had seen Kael lose control. In the alley when those wolves cornered him. In the gym when Sophia attacked me. His eyes had changed. His whole body had tensed like he was barely holding something back.
But was that real? Or was that another performance?
"He's good at it now," Victoria said quietly. "The mimicry. He's studied people his whole life. Learned how to make them trust him. How to make them feel safe." Her eyes locked on mine. "How to make them fall for him."
My pulse hammered in my ears.
"I don't know why he's interested in you, Elara. But Kael doesn't do anything without a reason. He doesn't form connections. He forms strategies."
"You're his mother." My voice came out rough. "How can you say that about him?"
"Because I've watched him for twenty years." Her face didn't change. "And I've never once seen him care about another person. Not really. He protects his territory. He maintains his reputation. He does what benefits him." She straightened. Smoothed down her coat. "Right now, for some reason, you're part of that calculation."
The bathroom door banged open.
We both turned.
A girl from the bus stood in the doorway. One of the ones I didn't know. "Elara? Coach Warren says we're leaving in one minute."
"We're coming." Victoria's voice shifted. Warm. Professional. Teacher mode. She smiled at the girl. "Thank you for letting us know."
The girl nodded and left.
Victoria picked up her leather folder from the counter. She looked at me one more time. "I'm not trying to hurt you, Elara. I'm trying to protect you." She walked toward the door. Paused with her hand on the handle. "Stay away from him. Not for my sake. For yours."
Then she was gone.
I stood there. Staring at my reflection in the mirror.
My face was too pale. My eyes too wide.
Kael's voice echoed in my head. From the car last night. Next time something happens, you tell me first. Text. Call. Show up at my door at three in the morning. I don't care.
He'd sounded angry. Worried. Real.
But Victoria's words wrapped around my thoughts like smoke.
He's mimicking. He's calculating. You're part of a strategy.
I gripped the edge of the sink.
Was any of it real?
The way he'd looked at me in the cave. The way his hand had lingered on my wrist. The way he'd said my name like it mattered.
Or was I just another piece on his board?