CHAPTER 28

HADES

I followed Mr. Zane into his office, the door closing behind me with a quiet thud. The room felt suffocating, the smell of old books and faint traces of coffee filling the air. Mr. Zane gestured for me to take a seat, his expression unreadable.

“Take a seat, Mr. Giovanni,” he said, his tone calm but with an underlying sharpness that made me feel like I was being scrutinized under a microscope.

I sat down, the chair creaking beneath me, and tried to keep my cool. I had no idea what this was about. The tension in the room was thick, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

Mr. Zane leaned forward, folding his hands together on the desk. He studied me for a moment, as if measuring his words carefully. “You’ve been walking around with bruises on your face, Mr. Giovanni. I assume you’re aware of that.”

I stiffened. Of course, I knew about the bruises. I didn’t exactly have the luxury of avoiding them, not with the life I was living. But I wasn’t about to explain that to him.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, hoping he’d drop it.

He didn’t. “I don’t think that’s the case. And I’m also curious about the police officers who came for you earlier. Do you know why they were here? What were they after?”

My heart skipped a beat. The cops. It was hard to ignore the uneasy feeling that settled in my stomach. I couldn’t exactly tell him the truth about what was going on, not without risking everything. I had to keep it together.

“I don’t know why they were here,” I lied, keeping my voice steady. “They must’ve gotten the wrong person.”

Mr. Zane didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he sat back in his chair, studying me with a penetrating gaze. “You’re treading dangerous waters, Giovanni. I suggest you be more careful.”

His words hung in the air like a warning, and for a moment, I felt like a trap was closing in around me. I wasn’t sure what game he was playing, but I wasn’t about to let him catch me in it.

“I’ll be fine,” I replied, my voice low and firm.

Mr. Zane didn’t say anything else, but his expression told me he wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot.

“You can go, Mr. Giovanni,” Mr. Zane finally said, his tone clipped as he waved me toward the door.

I didn’t need to be told twice. I stood up, adjusting my jacket as I walked out of his office. The heavy door creaked open, and the moment I stepped into the hallway, my eyes landed on them—Lara, Marcus, and Gianna, all leaning against the lockers like they’d been waiting for hours.

Lara’s face lit up when she saw me, but there was a hint of worry in her brown eyes. She pushed off the locker and crossed the space between us in a heartbeat.

“You can go, Mr. Giovanni,” Mr. Zane finally said, his tone clipped as he waved me toward the door.

I didn’t need to be told twice. I stood up, adjusting my jacket as I walked out of his office. The heavy door creaked open, and the moment I stepped into the hallway, my eyes landed on them—Lara, Marcus, and Gianna, all leaning against the lockers like they’d been waiting for hours.

Lara’s face lit up when she saw me, but there was a hint of worry in her brown eyes. She pushed off the locker and crossed the space between us in a heartbeat.

"Hey," she said, stepping closer. "What happened in there?"

I hesitated. How could I explain the kind of conversation I just had with the principal? The questions about my bruises, the accusations hanging in the air, and those damn cops—none of it was something I wanted to unpack right now. "I’ll tell you later," I muttered, keeping my voice low. "Let’s just get out of here."

Lara nodded, though I could see the unease flicker across her face. She wanted to ask more, but she didn’t. I was grateful for that.

As we made our way toward the courtyard, the silence was heavy, but Marcus couldn’t let it stay that way.

“So, we’re just supposed to pretend the cops showing up wasn’t a big deal?” he muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

I stopped in my tracks, turning to face him. My patience, already razor-thin, snapped. "Yeah, Marcus. That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do."

His jaw twitched like he wanted to argue, but before he could, Gianna stepped in. "Let it go, Marcus," she said sharply, though her tone still carried that effortless ease she always seemed to have. "If he says he’ll explain later, then we wait."

I glanced at Lara, half-expecting her to side with Marcus, to press me for answers. Instead, she stepped closer, her voice soft when she spoke. "Hades, you don’t have to carry this alone, okay? Whatever it is, you can trust us."

Her words hit me harder than I expected. Trust. Did I trust them? Did I trust her? My eyes met hers, and for a moment, the weight of it all—the bruises, the fights, my mom, my dad—threatened to crack me open.

"I know," I said finally, my voice barely audible. It was all I could manage.

We walked in silence after that, but the tension in my chest didn’t ease. I knew I owed them an explanation, especially Lara. But every time I thought about laying it all out—the truth about my dad, the bruises, the cops—I felt the walls closing in.

Lara walked beside me, her presence quiet but grounding. She didn’t say a word, but I could feel her worry radiating off her in waves. It didn’t make things easier, but it reminded me why I couldn’t completely fall apart. At least not yet.