Wednesday pressed her lips together into a thin line and opened the door, ready to leave.
"Where are you going?"
Enid asked, her voice still laced with the lingering heartache she felt for Vic.
"To ask Principal Weems."
Wednesday didn't break her stride, her voice cold and sharp.
"As Vic's aunt, she undoubtedly knows something."
"Wait," Enid hesitated for a split second before hurrying to catch up.
"But... Vic didn't tell us voluntarily. That means he might... not want us to know."
Wednesday stopped at the end of the hallway and turned. Her dark eyes swept over Enid as she raised a brow. "You can stay here. Rest assured..."
She paused, her tone carrying a brutal sort of honesty. "I won't tell you what I find out later."
With that, she turned and continued marching toward the Principal's office.
Enid struggled with herself for two seconds before jogging to follow her.
Hearing the footsteps behind her, Wednesday didn't look back, though she imperceptibly slowed her pace by half a step.
"What?" Her voice remained flat. "Change your mind?"
"I just... want to understand Vic better."
Enid kept her head down, her voice small but filled with resolve.
---
The door to the Principal's office was slightly ajar.
Principal Larissa Weems sat behind her desk, frowning at a list on a digital screen. Her fingers swiped rapidly; clearly, she was in the midst of stressful preparations for the upcoming Parents' Weekend.
There was a knock on the door, but before she could say "Come in," it was unceremoniously pushed open.
Wednesday walked straight in, followed by a slightly awkward but determined Enid.
"Miss Addams. Miss Sinclair."
Principal Weems looked up from her screen, rubbing the bridge of her nose, looking weary.
"Is there a reason you're here at this hour?"
"We want to know about Vic's parents."
Wednesday cut straight to the chase, skipping all pleasantries.
"When Vic mentioned them today... his expression wasn't right," Enid added quietly, her hands clasping together nervously.
Principal Weems sighed deeply and leaned back in her chair.
"Girls, regarding this matter... I'm afraid this isn't something you can intervene in."
Wednesday didn't speak. She simply pulled out a high-backed chair opposite the desk, sat down, folded her hands in her lap, and stared silently at the Principal.
It was a stance that clearly said: I am prepared for a war of attrition. I am not leaving until you talk.
Enid looked at the Principal, then at Wednesday, and summoned the courage to pull out the other chair and sit, though her posture was far less composed than Wednesday's.
Larissa looked at the two girls—so different in style yet united in purpose. She stayed silent for a moment before sighing again, finally compromising.
"Fine." She picked up her bone china teacup and took a sip of the now-lukewarm tea. "I'll keep it brief."
" simply put... Vic's parents accidentally... lost him when he was very young."
Enid drew a sharp breath.
Wednesday's eyelashes fluttered almost imperceptibly.
"Two years later, Vic miraculously returned on his own. But his parents found that the once obedient, adorable son they knew had become... unhinged. Manic. And he was accompanied by a small, black, viscous monster."
"What they found hardest to accept was that their son seemed to share a bond with that black slime creature that was closer than the one he shared with them."
Larissa's voice carried a complex mix of emotions.
"Crushed by immense guilt and fear, they eventually contacted me. Incoherently, they asked Nevermore to 'take in' Vic—"
"The way they used the phrase 'take in'... I felt as though they were discussing the disposal of hazardous materials that needed containment, rather than their own son."
"They believed that in an environment full of 'outcasts,' Vic might appear... somewhat normal."
"What?!"
Enid shot up from her seat, the chair legs screeching against the floor.
"They... they threw Vic away?! Again?! How could they do that?" Her voice trembled with anger and disbelief.
She couldn't imagine what it must have felt like for that boy—who had barely escaped a hellish laboratory, dragging a body full of trauma back home—to realize his parents were preparing to "discard" him a second time.
That was a cruelty a hundred times worse than any physical injury.
"Deplorable parents."
Wednesday offered her cold assessment. Her tongue was as sharp as ever, but a rare chill flashed through the depths of her dark eyes.
Although her own mother was overbearing and loved to meddle in her life, Wednesday had never once doubted her parents' deep—albeit twisted—love for her and Pugsley.
"Not discarded. Fostered... sent to live with me... alright..."
Seeing Enid's agitated reaction, Larissa helplessly corrected herself. "Essentially... it's the same thing."
" Regardless, Vic seemed to keenly sense their intentions. On the car ride over, he jumped out of the moving vehicle and ran. He stayed on the run for ten years."
"It wasn't until a few months ago that he suddenly called me, asking if Nevermore was in need of a 'crazy student plus a black, sticky, chocolate-loving little monster'."
A heavy silence fell over the office.
"Do you understand now?"
Larissa's gaze moved between Wednesday and Enid.
"Vic likes you both. That emotion is real and intense. You might be able to fill certain voids in his heart to some extent."
"But some things... like the unconditional acceptance and love that should come from one's biological family... no outsider can replace that."
She stood up, signaling the end of the meeting.
"Go back to your dorms, girls. Some wounds can only be shown if he chooses to show them, and only when he is ready."
Wednesday and Enid stood up in silence and walked out of the Principal's office, one after the other.
The door clicked softly shut behind them.
The hallway was dim and quiet. Neither of them left immediately. They stood side by side, digesting the heavy, suffocating truth they had just learned.
Enid's eyes were rimmed with red. She sniffled hard, her voice raspy from holding back tears.
"They... they don't deserve to be parents!"
Wednesday didn't respond to the emotional accusation. She simply turned her head, her gaze piercing through the hallway window to look at the perpetually gloomy sky above Nevermore.
Her profile remained cold and hard, but the tightness in the corner of her mouth betrayed an unusual gravity.
After a long pause, she spoke slowly. Her voice was lower than usual, as if stating a cold, calculated equation that was undeniably close to the truth:
"So, that borderline paranoid madness... that greedy, desperate demand for affection that he refuses to let go of..."
"Perhaps it isn't entirely the influence of Venom or a 'gift' from the laboratory."
Her gaze shifted back, landing on Enid's tear-streaked face.
"That is simply a little boy, after being abandoned time and again, finding the only way... to survive."
"Using the loudest noise to mask the deepest silence."
Enid's tears finally spilled over. She nodded vigorously, then quickly wiped them away.
They didn't speak again. By unspoken agreement, they turned and walked toward their dormitory.
Their footsteps were heavier than when they had arrived, but a shared determination to protect him was quietly growing in the silence—solid as steel.