Mag-log inRydan’s POVThe word final sat in the air of the changing room and didn’t move.I looked at the coach and he looked back at me with the settled expression of someone who had made a decision far enough in advance that delivering it was simply the last administrative step. There was no uncertainty in his face, no crack where an argument might find purchase. He had arrived at this room already finished.“There are two ways this ends,” he said. He held up one finger. “You leave quietly. No statement, no media, no further disruption to this academy’s reputation.” A second finger. “Or you stand in front of this team and publicly deny what that video implies. On record. Formal denial, enough for me to manage what’s coming from the press side.”Someone on the bench laughed.Not bothering to hide it. The open, easy laughter of someone who had been waiting for a specific moment and was now inside it and finding it as satisfying as they had anticipated. Then another, from a different corner, and
Rydan’s POVThe academy was wrong from the moment I stepped through the gate.Not wrong in any visible, specific way. The buildings were where they always were. The car park had the usual arrangement of vehicles. The path to the main entrance was clear and empty in the way it was clear and empty on any ordinary morning. But the quality of the silence was off, the particular silence that a place produced when the people inside it had agreed, without discussing it, to behave differently than they normally would.I had lived long enough to recognise that kind of silence by texture alone.I went to the main corridor first. Empty. The administrative office had its door closed, which was unusual for this hour. The equipment room was dark through the window beside it. I moved through the building the way I moved through spaces that were giving me nothing useful, checking each one quickly and moving to the next, and the building returned nothing except its own closed, careful quiet.The train
Franklin’s POVThe sound of the latch was enough to make me step back without thinking.Old reflex. The kind that months of being on edge had built into me without asking permission. My shoulder hit the opposite wall of the corridor before I’d registered that I was moving away from a door that was opening rather than something coming through it.Then I saw her face.Vivian. Her eyes were red at the edges and her hair was pulled back in the hasty way of someone who had not been sleeping, and the moment she registered that it was me standing in her hallway, everything in her expression collapsed into a single decision.She shoved the door.“Vivian.” I got my foot in the gap before it closed and felt the wood press hard against my shoe. “Don’t.”“Go away, Franklin.”“I’m not going anywhere.” I kept my voice level even though level was not what I was feeling. “You owe me a conversation.”“I don’t owe you anything.”“Vivian.” I pushed against the door, not hard enough to hurt her, hard eno
Franklin’s POVI watched Rydan’s face change the moment he answered.He had the phone to his ear and his eyes on the road but the road wasn’t what he was seeing… his jaw had set in the specific way it set when information was arriving that required him to immediately begin managing it rather than simply receiving it. I had learned to read that jaw.He said very little on the call. “Yes.” A pause. “I understand.” Another pause, longer. “I’ll be there.”He ended it and put the phone in the holder and drove for a moment without saying anything, which was the version of him that was buying time to assemble the delivery.“What?” I said.“The coach,” he said. “The article reached him. He’s calling it a serious situation and wants me at the academy.” He paused. “Immediately.”I looked at my hands in my lap. The ice bag had lost most of its usefulness and was now just cold water in a bag, which I was still holding against my face out of habit.“Vivian,” I said.“I know.”“Someone needs to get
Rydan’s POV“We go to her,” I said. “Right now. Before she does anything further with it.”Franklin nodded and pushed back from the table and stood up and then made a sound that was sharp and involuntary and sat back down immediately.I was beside him in a second. “What…”“My ribs,” he said, through his teeth. “When you…” He didn’t finish the sentence but his hand went to his left side and the expression on his face finished it for him.I crouched in front of him.“Let me see,” I said.“I’m fine.”“Franklin.”He lifted his shirt with the specific reluctance of someone who didn’t want the evidence of something to become more real by being looked at. The bruising was already forming, dark and significant, spreading from just below his ribs toward his side.I sat back on my heels and looked at it and then looked at the floor.“I know,” he said.“I’m going to…”“I know,” he said again. “Just… fix it. We’ll deal with the rest after.”I got the first aid kit from the bathroom and came back
Rydan’s POVI don’t know exactly when he stopped moving.It wasn’t a moment I can point to cleanly… there was no specific punch that was different from the others, no line I was aware of crossing. It was more that at some point the thing I was responding to stopped responding, and the absence of response reached me in a way that the previous several minutes hadn’t.I pulled back.Franklin was on the floor.He wasn’t moving. His face had the particular stillness of someone who was not choosing to be still, and the blood was from his nose and from a cut above his eyebrow and it was on the floor beside him and on my hands and the room was very quiet.Something arrived in my chest that I had not felt in a very long time.“Franklin.” I was on my knees beside him before I had decided to move. “Franklin, wake up.”Nothing.“Franklin.” I put my hands on his face, careful now, catastrophically careful given what those same hands had been doing sixty seconds ago. “Open your eyes. Please.”Nothi
Franklin’s POVMy legs made the decision before my brain did.One second I was standing in the doorway of the changing room, and the next I was turning, moving fast, trying to put as much distance between myself and what I had just seen as my legs would allow. The image was already burned behind my
Karl’s POVI was always the one in control.Always the one calling the shots, setting the pace, deciding what happened and when. It was how things worked. How they were supposed to work.But watching Calen drop to his knees in front of me, his eyes bright with determination and something else I cou
Calen’s POV“Your condition for staying enrolled here,” Principal Morrison said, folding his hands on his desk, “is that you stay away from Karl.”The words hit me like a physical blow.“Stay away from him?” I repeated stupidly.“Yes. Whatever… involvement you have with him ends now. No more privat
Calen’s POVThe principal stood in the doorway.For a long, frozen moment, nobody moved. My brain screamed at me to do something… pull away from Karl, fix my clothes, say something… but my body refused to cooperate. I was trapped between Karl and the wall, his hand still pressed against me, mine st







