Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Mae POV

I gave myself a wink in the mirror while I admired my new outfit. It isn’t really new; my aunty bought it before my resumption into the academy.

Yesterday was traumatizing. I was hoping today would be more promising. I was still trying to assure myself when my phone buzzed. I glanced at it on the table, and my heart skipped. It was a notification from the school group chat.

<One of the rival hockey teammates was killed with a knife.>I sighed and closed the screen with my hand. Looking at myself in the mirror at that moment, I wished I had never seen Cole last night. The jig was up for whoever killed that student. I know it’s Cole. I saw him in a pool of blood last night.

Another notification came in as I grabbed my backpack. Same group.

<Cole isn’t the culprit.>

My eyes almost popped out of their sockets when I saw the message. It was directly from Marlowe.

But how isn’t he the culprit when I saw him?

“Mae, you’re late for school!” my aunt’s voice cut through from downstairs.

I quickly grabbed my phone from the table, scanned the room, and finally found my textbook close to my wardrobe. I’ve been careless lately.

I giggled softly and stepped out of my room. My footsteps echoed down the stairs as I hurried down.

My aunt was standing at the bottom with her arms crossed, wearing the specific expression she reserved for occasions when she had already decided to be unimpressed before I even appeared.

"You look nice," she said immediately.

Which meant she had also already decided to be kind about it.

"Thanks, Aunty." I kissed her cheek quickly and moved toward the door.

"Mae."

I stopped.

She was looking at me with that other expression—the one that lived underneath the unimpressed one. Softer. More dangerous.

"Yesterday," she started carefully.

"Was fine," I cut in. "I’m fine. Blackthorn is fine."

She held my gaze for a long moment, the way she always did when she knew I was lying but had decided to let it pass—for now.

"Eat something before you—"

"I’ll grab something on the way." I pulled the door open. "I love you."

"I love you too. Don’t let them eat you alive."

I laughed despite myself.

"I’ll try."

---

The walk to Blackthorn took eleven minutes on a normal morning. Today I did it in eight.

My brain needed something to focus on besides replaying last night like a horror film I hadn’t consented to watching.

Cole Ashford.

Blood on the ice.

A body I now knew belonged to a student who wasn’t coming back.

<One of the rival hockey teammates was killed with a knife.>The part I couldn’t understand was Marlowe’s message.

<Cole isn’t the culprit.>

Marlowe Sinclair—the same girl who had grabbed me by the hair yesterday, who smiled at me like a warning on my very first day—was defending Cole publicly in the school group chat before eight in the morning.

That bothered me more than the blood had.

Marlowe didn’t do anything without a reason. So why defend him in a murder case—or even bother confirming his innocence?

I tightened my grip on my backpack strap and kept walking.

Think, Mae.

I saw Cole last night crouching beside the body, not standing over it. He wasn’t running away like someone guilty would. He looked like someone inspecting something… not causing it. His hands had been pressed against the wound. And when he looked up, his expression hadn’t been guilt.

It had been something I still didn’t have a word for.

I snapped out of my thoughts as I approached the school hall, forcing my face forward, trying to avoid unnecessary drama.

My throat tightened when I caught sight of hair that looked like Marlowe’s. I swallowed hard and stepped inside but my leg hit something on the floor. I stumbled and fell hard.

My knee struck the ground with force, pain spreading instantly through my body.

“Mm!” I groaned.

Before I could even lift my gaze, a hand appeared in front of me.

I looked up.

Cole.

He was offering to help me up. The hallway was crowded with students. Marlowe stood by her locker in the distance, arms crossed, watching.

“I’m sorry for the fall,” Cole's voice came, low and mocking.

My eyes dropped to Cole’s shoe, then to his face, then to his still-outstretched hand. Anger surged through me, and I slapped it away.

Everyone gasped.

“I don’t need you or your help.”

He expected me to be grateful that he’d suddenly appeared to play hero. Even if Marlowe herself was on the verge of destroying me in this school, I would rather let her do it than accept help from him. He was a murderer. If the academy decided to clear his name because he was the hockey golden boy, I would still see him as a killer.

I stood, dusting myself off. The moment I took a step forward, pain shot through my knee again. Students watched, silently entertained.

Cole didn’t leave. He stayed beside me.

I let out a low groan as I moved slowly.

“Be careful,” he murmured near me. “We have hungry bullies here.”

“And you are one,” I snapped, teeth clenched, anger boiling in my chest.

He suddenly grabbed my hand.

“Let me help you. I’ll walk you to class.”

I pulled away immediately. “I don’t need your help, Cole. Stop embarrassing me. You’re scared I’ll tell the school you killed that boy,” I said, walking slowly as if nothing had happened.

A few students were already heading to class, ignoring us, though I could still feel eyes on me.

I was surprised Marlowe hadn’t approached. She only stood at her locker, watching.

Or so I thought.

Because a second later, a hand pushed me hard from behind.

I screamed, expecting to hit the ground but I didn’t.

Someone caught me.

My eyes widened, heart racing violently.

“Enough, Marlowe!” Cole yelled, still holding me before I could fall.

His expression darkened as he glared at her.

My face tilted upward toward the ceiling, his grip steady behind me.

“You choose her?”

Silence.

“I will choose her every day because she is my girlfriend.”

His words froze me completely.