The school hallway was empty, only her footsteps echoed.
Somewhere above her, a neon tube hummed, flickering briefly as if trying to warn her.
Up ahead, Alaric turned the corner—straight ahead without looking back.
Lina almost ran to avoid losing sight of him.
"Alaric!" she called.
He didn't respond.
He kept walking as if she were merely a sound that would soon fade away.
---
Outside, the cold air hit her face.
The schoolyard was almost empty, with wind chasing leaves across the asphalt.
Alaric crossed the yard, went through the gate, out onto the street—no backpack, no books, just him, like a shadow that knew where it belonged.
"Wait!" she gasped.
He stopped abruptly, half-turning. His eyes were gray like concrete, hard and defined.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"Just to talk," said Lina, forcing air into her lungs.
"Talking doesn't help."
"Then silence," she replied. "But not alone."
Something flickered in his gaze.
