Throughout breakfast, every student of the House of Exorcism glared at Adam. While the girls sneered, commenting half mockingly on how pretty he was, the boys were more serious.
Adam saw Jonathan shake his head with a sigh of disappointment. Though the first light of morning had just replaced the glow of the moon, the youth waved his ink-stained hand, as if to convey that Adam had lost the right to even speak to him.
Brad, who had been so eager about Adam joining the exorcist yesterday, avoided his gaze. The way his lips twisted each time he gazed at him and how he tried to mask his displeasure by stuffing steaming rice into his mouth, spoke louder than words—especially his white knuckles around the silver fork.
