Chapter 42 Finding Truth
The teachers dragged Marcus out before the scene escalated further. The cafeteria exhaled collectively, tension slowly unraveling like a pulled thread finally losing its grip.
“What’s wrong with Marcus?” I muttered to myself, more to the air than anyone.
Oliver overheard. “You know his name?”
“Yes,” I said, gaze lifting to him. “Don’t you remember? He won the first round during the trials.”
“Oh.” Oliver blinked once. “Right. The student reported missing last week.”
“Missing?” I echoed, eyes narrowing slightly.
A cold flick of realization.
I remembered now, on the final trial day, Marcus excused himself to the restroom… and never returned.
My mind then drifted unwillingly toward Adrian, who was now standing to leave. He hadn’t stayed until the end of the trials. Hadn’t apologized afterward, even when he saw how upset I was. He disappeared whenever it suited him, or whenever someone else did.
Unpredictable.
Maddening.
And somehow… magnetic.
“Well—”
“Adrian!” I called suddenly, cutting Oliver mid-sentence. Adrian was already near the entrance. Too far. The cafeteria noise swallowed my voice.
“Adrian!” I tried again, walking faster now.
“Lexie?” Oliver said behind me, confused by the abrupt shift.
I didn’t wait for him to gather his things. I rushed out of the café after Adrian, heart hammering like it had been waiting for permission to panic. When I finally spotted him, he stood near the hallway entrance, Naomi in front of him, smiling brightly. Adrian had his back turned to me, shoulders stiff, head angled slightly away, unreadable.
“Lexie!” Oliver called again behind me, breath ragged now. “You forgot your backpack when that psycho—”
I ignored the warning. Marcus wasn’t the answer. Adrian was the question.
I stepped forward, planted myself directly beside Adrian, breath steadying though my pulse still rebelled.
“Adrian,” I said, voice low but sharp, “we need to talk.”
No warning. No hesitation.
I grabbed his hand and tugged it slightly toward me.
“Hey!” Naomi snapped.
I dragged him to the nearest restroom, the girls’ toilet. Thankfully, it was empty. The door slammed softly behind us as my shoes squeaked against the tiled floor. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant and cold porcelain.
“I know you’re still upset about that day…” he started, voice lowering on its own, more hesitant than he intended.
I scoffed lightly, arms folding. “You know I’m upset, and you didn’t bother apologizing?”
He blinked, thrown off. He hadn’t planned to sound defensive, but the sting crept in anyway. “I’ve been busy,” he said flatly, like the words were already dead before leaving his mouth.
“With what?” I pressed.
That was when he froze.
My heart jolted at the sudden shift. My name left his lips before he could stop himself. “Lexie…” he muttered, voice threaded with a warning I couldn’t fully decode.
“Where have you been, Adrian?” I asked again, stepping closer, refusing to let the question fade. “Where do you keep disappearing to?”
No answer.
I swallowed hard and pushed again. “Where were you on the last day of the trial? The day Marcus was reported missing?”
He shrugged one shoulder, unbothered, but the gesture felt rehearsed. “And you think I have something to do with that?” he asked, a faint tilt of his head following, almost mocking, almost testing.
“No… no…” I faltered, palms slightly lifting as if to wave the suspicion away. My breath came uneven. “I’m just—”
“Suspicious?” He completed it for me.
The word felt sharp, unfair. I shook my head quickly. “No. I’m just… curious.”
He exhaled loudly, frustration cracking through his controlled tone. “Fine!” The sudden snap made my shoulders tighten and I almost flinched. “You want to know where I’ve been?” he continued. “My paint house. The greenhouse in the woods where I once showed you my paintings.”
My mouth parted slightly, stunned into silence.
He rolled his eyes and scoffed at it. “I hope that settles your curiosity.” He turned and walked toward the exit.
I remained rooted. The restroom felt colder now.
He stopped at the door.
One hand on the handle. He didn’t look at me immediately. He exhaled through his nose first, long, slow, tired, like someone trying to keep himself together for one more sentence. Then he turned to me.
“And if you’re worried about Marcus,” he said quietly, eyes narrowing just a fraction, “you’re wasting your energy. He’s going to die soon.”
My eyes widened. “What… what are you talking about?”
“I don’t know either, Lexie.” His voice stayed steady, but something underneath it felt frayed. “But believe me when I say there’s nothing you can do to save Marcus. He’s dying. In fact… he’s already dead.”
Then he left.
The door clicked behind him, echoing too loudly for a small sound.
“Adrian, wait!” I called, spinning toward the exit, but when I stepped out, he was already gone. The hallway outside swallowed every trace of him.
Oliver stood right in front of the restroom door, breath uneven, holding two bags and several papers tucked under his arm. His hair was slightly tousled like he had been running, but his posture stayed composed enough to pretend he hadn’t.
He jerked his thumb to the right. “He… he went that way.”
I exhaled shakily, the tension leaving my lungs all at once. I took my bag from him, fingers brushing his as I did. “Thanks,” I whispered, voice distant even to my own ears.
“What’s going on between you two?” Oliver asked, falling into step behind me, still catching his breath, papers shifting slightly under his arm.
I didn’t answer.
Adrian’s words kept looping in my head, heavy and inescapable:
‘There’s nothing you can do to save Marcus.’
The sentence beat against my mind like a warning bell, like a verdict, like a truth I wasn’t ready to touch.