Chapter 49 The edge cliff
Chapter 49: The Edge of the Cliff (Elena’s POV)
The next three days were a blur of ink, old paper, and the constant, nagging fear that the floor was about to drop out from under me. Every morning, I woke up in the basement, listened to the heavy footsteps of the Vance family above my head, and reminded myself why I was doing this.
I wasn't just a tutor. I was a shield for my mother.
Maya and I walked into the library on Thursday afternoon. The big test was tomorrow. The air in the school felt like a stretched rubber band, ready to snap at any second. Even the usual hallway drama had died down because everyone was terrified of Mr. Henderson’s red pen.
"He’s already there," Maya whispered, nodding toward our corner.
Liam was sitting at the table, but he wasn't looking at a book. He was staring at the wall, his jaw tight. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week. When he saw me, his eyes brightened for a split second before the worry clouded them again.
"Did your father say anything else?" I asked, sitting down. I didn't even say hello. We didn't have time for manners.
"He doesn't need to say anything," Liam said, his voice rough. "He just looks at me. Every time I walk past him in the hall at home, he checks his watch. It’s like he’s counting down the minutes until he can pull the plug on my life."
Maya sat at her usual lookout spot, but she leaned in closer this time. "He’s bluffing, Liam. If he kicks Elena out, he loses the best tutor in the state. He’s not that stupid."
"You don't know him, Maya," Liam said. He looked at me, and I saw the guilt eating him alive. "Elena, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you’re in this mess because of me."
"Don't be sorry," I said, opening my notebook. "Just be smart. We’re doing the French Revolution again. From the top. If you miss one date, we start over."
We worked for four hours. Liam was actually getting it. He wasn't just memorizing facts anymore; he was understanding the "why" behind the history. He saw how the people at the bottom got tired of the people at the top having everything. He looked at the pages, then looked at me, and I knew he was seeing the parallels to our own lives.
The chemistry was a living thing between us. Every time our hands brushed while reaching for a highlighter, it felt like a spark. Every time he leaned in to read a note I’d written, I could feel the heat of him. It was a distraction we couldn't afford, but it was the only thing making me feel alive.
"Take a break," Maya said, standing up and stretching. "My eyes are crossing. I’m going to get some water. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
She gave me a meaningful look and walked away.
The silence she left behind was heavy. I kept my eyes on my notes, but I could feel Liam watching me.
"Elena," he said softly.
"No, Liam. Chapter nine. Napoleon's rise to power."
"Forget Napoleon for one minute," he said. He reached across the table and gently closed my book. "Talk to me. Really talk to me. Are you okay?"
"I'm terrified," I admitted, finally looking up. "I’m terrified that I’m going to go to school tomorrow and find out my locker has been emptied. I’m terrified that my mom won't have a job by Monday. And the worst part?"
"What?"
"The worst part is that I don't regret meeting you," I whispered. "And I should. My life was easier when you were just a mean boy in a jersey. It was simpler when I hated you."
Liam moved around the table. He didn't sit down; he knelt next to my chair so we were at eye level. He took my hand in his. His grip was strong and warm.
"I’m going to pass this test, Elena. Not for the merger. Not for the hockey scouts. I’m doing it so I can stand in front of my father and tell him he has no more excuses to hurt you. I’m going to earn my place so I can protect yours."
"You can't promise that," I said, a tear finally escaping.
"Watch me," he said.
He leaned in, and for a heartbeat, I thought he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to. I wanted to forget the test and the estate and the limp in my leg. But he just rested his forehead against mine. It was a promise, not a plea.
"Go home," he whispered. "Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning. Front row."
I didn't sleep. I spent the night staring at the ceiling of the basement, listening to the house groan.
The next morning, the school was silent. The History wing felt like a tomb. I walked to my seat in the front row. A few seats over, Chloe was sitting with her friends. She looked perfect, as always, but she didn't look at me. She looked like she was waiting for a show to start.
Liam walked in a minute later. He looked sharp. He looked like the King of Northview, but when he caught my eye, he gave me a tiny, secret nod.
Mr. Henderson walked in, looking more serious than I’d ever seen him. He didn't say a word. He just started handing out the papers. When he got to my desk, he gave me a long look.
"Good luck, Ms. Marycynthia," he whispered.
I took the test. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would burst through my ribs. I looked at the questions. They were hard—much harder than the practice ones—but I knew them. I started writing, the scratch of my pen the only sound in the room.
I finished early. I sat there, my hands folded, watching the clock. I looked over at Liam. He was writing furiously. He didn't look up once. He looked like a man fighting for his life.
"Time’s up," Henderson barked.
We passed our papers forward. As I stood up to leave, my legs felt like jelly. I made it to the hallway, where Maya was waiting for me.
"How was it?" she asked, grabbing my arm.
"It was a monster," I said. "But I think I did okay. Now we just have to wait."
"Wait for what?" Maya asked.
"The results. Henderson said he’d have them posted by the end of the day."
We spent the afternoon in a daze. We sat in the cafeteria, but we didn't eat. We went to our other classes, but we didn't hear a word the teachers said. Every time a bell rang, I jumped.
Finally, the final bell rang. We ran toward the History wing. A crowd was already gathered around the bulletin board.
I pushed through the students, my heart in my throat. My eyes skipped over the names until I found mine.
Elena Marycynthia: 98%.
I let out a breath of relief. I was safe. But then I looked for the name that mattered more.
Liam Vance.
I scanned the list. Down, down, past the 90s, past the 80s. My heart started to sink. Where was he? Did he fail? Did he—
I found it at the very top.
Liam Vance: 100%.
"He did it!" Maya screamed, jumping up and down. "He actually did it!"
I felt a rush of joy so strong I almost fell over. He passed. He beat his father. He beat the system. I looked around for him, wanting to see his face, wanting to tell him I was proud of him.
I saw him at the end of the hall. He was standing by the exit, looking at the board. He looked like a king who had finally won his crown back. He saw me and started to walk toward me, a huge, real smile on his face.
But then, he stopped.
A man in a suit—the same private investigator from the library—stepped out from behind a locker. He wasn't holding a camera this time. He was holding a manila envelope.
He walked up to Mr. Henderson, who was standing by his classroom door, and handed him the envelope.
"Mr. Henderson," the man said, his voice loud enough for the whole hallway to hear. "I think you should look at these photos before you finalize those grades. It seems your top student and his tutor were doing a lot more than studying in your library."
Henderson opened the envelope. He pulled out the photos. My heart stopped. It was the photo of us from yesterday—the one where our foreheads were touching, our hands close together. In the quiet of the library, it looked like a confession.