As soon as Winter stepped out of Sister Agnes's office, her smile slipped away like a mask discarded. Her face returned to its usual emptiness. She walked down the hallway, her shoes clicking softly against the stone floor.
Students parted at the sight of her, eyes wide, whispering, as if she carried fire on her head. They avoided her like she was cursed. But Winter gave no reaction. She was used to it. Their fear had long ago become background noise.
She climbed the staircase to the next floor and headed straight for the second classroom. From inside, the steady voice of a teacher drifted through the door, gentle, rhythmic, reciting poetry.
Winter pushed the door open without knocking. "Hi, Teacher Purity," she said casually, her tone more mocking than polite.
The teacher faltered mid-sentence. Winter didn't care if there was a reply.
The class fell into silence. Every head turned. The air grew heavy. Winter walked down the aisle, eyes locked on the back row. There, a girl with glasses slept with her head on the desk, black hair tied into two cute buns.
Winter grabbed a strand and tugged.
The girl jerked awake with a sharp gasp, adjusting her glasses, blinking at the tall figure in front of her. Recognition dawned.
Unlike the others, she didn't stiffen or fly out of the window. She simply waved a hand, swatting Winter like an annoying insect. "Get away from me. I have poetry." With that, she dropped her head back down onto the desk.
Winter's lips twitched. Without hesitation, she seized the girl by the collar and hauled her upright, dragging her out of her seat.
The classroom erupted in murmurs.
"What are you doing?!" the girl hissed, stumbling after Winter as they stepped into the hall. "It's broad daylight, we're supposed to be in class!"
Winter's voice was calm, flat. "We're leaving. For good."
It took a second for the words to sink in. The girl froze, then let out a shocked cry. "What?!"
Heads turned at her cry.
Winter tightened her grip and pulled her along.
"Is this Sister Agnes's decision?" the girl demanded. "Because you beat that witch?"
Winter shot her a cold look. "Well, Deborah, since you already know, keep quiet." Her tone dripped with irritation.
Deborah puffed up in protest, her glasses sliding down her nose, but in the end she said nothing. She fussed inside, biting her lip, but she didn't resist. She didn't even seem to mind being taken.
Because no matter how harsh Winter was, no matter how much trouble followed her, Deborah would still follow her.
Even without being asked.