Chapter 9 The Girl Outside the Gate

Chapter 9 The Girl Outside the Gate

Sloane’s POV

I don’t remember the actual fall, which is probably the worst part because I know it happened, I just don’t have the part where I hit the ground, like my brain decided that was unnecessary information and just skipped it entirely.

What I do remember is right before it, that strange pressure building in my chest, not exactly painful but uncomfortable enough to make me notice it, like something was off and I should probably pay attention, except I didn’t because I thought I was fine.

Then the room tilted slightly, just enough to throw me off, and everything sort of… dropped.

The next thing I knew, I was on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and trying to figure out how I even got there, because for a second it didn’t make sense.

The floor was cold against my back, and that registered before anything else, before the sound of someone calling my name, before the realization that people were actually watching.

At first the voice didn’t even feel like it was meant for me, like it was just part of the noise around me, but then it came again, clearer this time.

“Sloane.”

I turned my head slowly, which felt ridiculous because it shouldn’t have taken that much effort, and that’s when I saw Alex standing there, closer than I expected, like he had moved while I was out.

He wasn’t panicking or saying anything else, just watching me with this steady, focused look that made me feel more exposed than concern would have.

“I’m fine,” I said, because that’s what you say in moments like that, even when it’s obviously not true.

I pushed myself up before anyone could help me, because there was no way I was staying on the floor in front of everyone, not like that, not where they could keep looking at me like I was something fragile or broken.

The second I stood, the dizziness came back, stronger this time, like the room couldn’t decide where it wanted to settle, but I forced myself to stay upright because sitting back down would’ve felt worse somehow.

Professor Aldridge told me to go to the infirmary, and there was something in his tone that made it clear he wasn’t asking, so I didn’t argue even though I wanted to brush it off and pretend it was nothing.

The rest of the day felt wrong in a way I couldn’t really explain, like I was there but not fully present, going through the motions without actually taking anything in.

I sat through my classes, opened my books, nodded when I was supposed to, but nothing stayed, everything just passed through me like it didn’t belong there.

And I could feel people looking, not directly, not enough to call them out, but enough to notice, enough to know they were talking about it without actually saying anything.

I ignored all of it.

By the time the final bell rang, I didn’t hesitate, I just grabbed my bag and left, because staying any longer felt like too much.

Outside was better, the air cooler, easier to breathe, like I could finally think without everything pressing in on me.

I stood off to the side at the waiting area, away from everyone else, not in the mood to deal with questions or fake concern or anything that required me to explain what had just happened when I didn’t even understand it myself.

I wasn’t paying attention to the cars pulling in and out until one of them stopped in front of me and didn’t move, which I tried to ignore at first because cars stop all the time and it shouldn’t have meant anything.

But then the door unlocked.

I hesitated for a second before walking over and opening it, already half-expecting something I couldn’t explain.

Alex.

Of course.

At this point, it didn’t even surprise me, which was probably the strangest part, because it felt like he just… showed up wherever I was now.

He didn’t look at me, didn’t say anything, just sat there like this was normal, like he had been there the whole time.

I got in anyway, because asking questions felt like too much effort, and I didn’t actually want the answers right now.

The door closed, and we drove off.

The silence wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t tense, it just existed, like neither of us had anything to say and for once that didn’t feel like a problem.

When we got back to the house, everything looked the same as before, too perfect, too quiet, like nothing outside those gates could touch it.

The car came to a stop, and I reached for the handle, ready to get out and be alone again.

“Two hours.”

I paused and looked at him, trying to place what he meant.

“What?”

“That’s when we start.”

It took me a second to catch up.

“The lessons?”

“Yes.”

Of course.

I nodded and stepped out without saying anything else.

Inside, the house felt the same as always, controlled and silent in a way that was starting to feel less comforting and more… strange.

My footsteps echoed faintly as I walked back to the guest room, and the tiredness settled deeper into my body, not sharp enough to stop me but heavy enough to notice.

I dropped my bag on the bed and moved straight to the window, needing something that wasn’t walls and silence and expectations.

When I pulled the curtain aside, everything looked normal at first, the grounds stretching out, quiet and undisturbed like they always were.

Then I saw her.

Lana.

I frowned, leaning closer to the glass because that didn’t make sense, not here, not anywhere near this place.

I looked again just to be sure, and yeah, it was definitely her.

She stood near the edge of the property, half-hidden by the trees, her phone raised toward the house like she was trying not to be noticed.

She took a picture.

Then another.

My grip tightened on the curtain without me realizing it.

She lowered the phone and looked around quickly, like she was checking if anyone had seen her, and then she raised it again and took another picture.

Something about that didn’t sit right.

Not even a little.

That wasn’t random, and it definitely wasn’t harmless.

Lana didn’t just end up here.

She came here.

For something.

And whatever that something was… it wasn’t good.

I let the curtain fall back into place and just stood there for a second, my mind already trying to figure out what I was supposed to do with that information.

Two hours.

That’s what he said.

I exhaled and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind me as I headed downstairs, slower this time, more aware of everything around me.

Halfway down, I heard movement, which made me pause for a second because that wasn’t what I expected.

For a moment, I considered turning back, pretending I hadn’t heard anything, but that would’ve been obvious.

So I kept going.

When I reached the bottom, I expected the room to be empty.

It wasn’t.

Alex was there, sitting in the living room like he actually had nowhere else to be.

I stopped for a second before speaking.

“You’re early.”

He raised an eyebrow like that was the dumbest thing I could’ve said.

“This is my house.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re usually in it,” I replied, stepping further into the room.

His gaze shifted back to me, sharper this time.

“And you’ve been here long enough to figure that out?”

“Not really,” I said, crossing my arms slightly, “but long enough to notice you only show up when there’s a reason.”

“Maybe there is a reason.”

“Let me guess,” I said, tilting my head slightly, “the lessons.”

“Obviously.”

I studied him for a second.

“You’re taking this very seriously all of a sudden.”

“And you’re not?”

“That depends,” I said, shrugging lightly. “Should I be worried?”

His eyes narrowed just a little.

“About what?”

“Sudden effort,” I said. “It’s weird.”

“That’s a stretch.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

I watched him for a moment longer, then let out a quiet breath.

“You don’t seem like the type to be enthusiastic about anything.”

That got a reaction, small but noticeable.

“Careful,” he said. “You’re assuming again.”

“I’m observing.”

“Same thing.”

“Not really.”

He leaned back slightly.

“You talk too much.”

I blinked at him.

“That’s your conclusion?”

“For now.”

I exhaled, shaking my head slightly.

“You started it.”

“You spoke first.”

“You were staring.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“I wasn’t.”

I stared at him.

He stared back.

Then I let out a breath.

“This is stupid.”

“You started it.”

“You exist,” I said flatly. “That’s what started it.”

That almost made him smile.

Almost.

“Go rest,” he said after a second, his tone shifting slightly. “You still look like you might pass out again.”

I straightened a little at that.

“I won’t.”

“That’s what you said earlier.”

“And I’m still standing.”

“For now.”

I held his gaze for a second longer than I meant to.

“Two hours,” he reminded.

“I heard you.”

“Good.”

I didn’t say anything else.

I just turned and walked away, even though something about that moment didn’t sit right with me.

And I couldn’t tell if that was because of him… or everything else.