Adrian spent the rest of that day in his dorm room, staring at his phone, waiting for a response that didn't come.
Adrian: I'm sorry for doing that publicly. Can we talk?
Delivered. Read. No response.
Adrian: Please. I know I messed up. Just tell me you're okay.
Delivered. Read. No response.
By evening, panic was setting in. Dante hadn't come back to the dorm, wasn't responding to texts, and according to Elena's intelligence network, hadn't been seen at any of his usual haunts on campus.
Adrian called Marcus.
"Have you seen Dante?"
Marcus sighed. "Yeah. He's at my place."
"Is he—is he okay?"
"Define okay. He's not hurt, if that's what you're asking. But he's not in great shape either."
"Can I—I need to talk to him."
"I don't know if that's a good idea right now."
"Please, Marcus. I know I fucked up. But I need to explain. I need to—"
