They didn't speak as they left the building.
Blackwood's gates loomed ahead, iron and silent, as if nothing unusual had happened inside its walls. The sky was already darkening, clouds gathering low and heavy. Elias felt drained not physically, but in a way that made his thoughts feel slower, heavier.
It wasn't until they reached the narrow path behind the science wing that Mara stopped.
"There's something I haven't told you," she said.
Elias turned to face her. He didn't rush her. Something told him this wasn't easy.
"I don't have magic," she continued. "Not like you."
"I never thought you did," he said honestly.
She nodded. "But I notice things. Patterns. Repetition. When something doesn't belong."
The words settled between them.
"When I was younger," she said, "I used to map my routes to school. Same streets, same timing. And when something changed even slightly I felt it. Like the world had skipped a beat."
Elias listened closely.
"That feeling?" she said. "It's the same one I felt when the lights flickered. When the door opened. When the school reacts to you."
"So you followed me," he said softly.
"Yes," she admitted. "Not to spy. To understand."
He considered that. The old instinct—to pull back, to disappear—rose up. But it didn't take hold.
"You weren't wrong," he said.
Mara exhaled, relieved. "I was afraid you'd think I crossed a line."
"Maybe you did," Elias said. Then, after a pause, "But I think I needed it."
They sat on the low stone wall near the trees, the sounds of the city distant and muted.
"Do you ever feel like you don't belong anywhere?" Mara asked quietly.
"All the time."
She smiled faintly. "Me too."
That surprised him.
"You don't seem like someone who fades into the background," he said.
"I choose when I'm seen," she replied. "That's different."
Elias looked at her then not as someone drawn into his secret, but as someone who carried her own quiet weight.
"Back there," she added, "when the room reacted… it calmed down when you did."
"Because you helped me," he said.
"Because you let me," she corrected.
The distinction mattered.
When they parted ways at the gates, Elias felt something unfamiliar settle into his chest.
Not fear.
Not pressure.
Something steadier.
Trust.
As he walked home, the hum followed him but softer now. Less demanding. As if the school itself had taken note.
Mara hadn't just chosen to stay.
She had chosen to understand.
And Elias realized something that frightened him more than the magic ever had.
He didn't want to face what was coming without her.
*End of the chapter*