Mr. Henry typed.
Henry: "What do you want?".
Beast: "Finally, you reply. Thanks for gracing me with your time, Your Majesty,"
Henry: "Get to the point,".
Beast: "Henry, my man, you've grown soft. Anyway, how's the trip going?"
Henry: We're on our way back.
Beast: Why? Did you guys get bored of the woods?
Henry: No. Enzo brought thugs to attack Ethan and Allen.
Beast: No way! Did you flatten them?
Henry: Nah. We figured more attacks might follow, so we decided to head back. We're on the road now.
Beast: Smart move. When you get back, come over to my place.
Henry: No, let's meet at the usual restaurant. Make a reservation—and don't use the name 'Beast' again.
Beast: Fine. I'm getting back to my bench press. Remember to meet me; it's about Mr. Murphy.
Henry: Murphy? I thought it was about Nameless.
Beast: Nah, it's too early for him to be introduced in the story.
Henry: Story? What are you talking about?
Beast: Nothing. Okay, bye. Take care, son.
Henry: We're practically the same age, big man.
Beast: Yeah, I know.
Henry read the last text and locked his phone. That man always finds a way to make me smile, he thought, a faint grin tugging at his lips.
The bus was quiet. Most of the students had drifted off to sleep, exhausted by the long journey.
In an other bus,
In the very back row, Daisy, Sophia, and Olivia talked in low voices, their conversation lasting until the city lights finally emerged from the darkness.
When they finally reached the school, the group dispersed toward their homes. Madison drove Ethan and Daisy back. When Ethan knocked on his front door, his mother, Selena, opened it with a look of pure confusion.
"Ethan? Daisy? Shouldn't you two be on your trip?" she asked.
Ethan opened his mouth to explain, but Selena ushered them in. "Come inside first."
Daisy was exhausted; she headed straight for her room to freshen up and collapse into bed. Ethan sank onto the couch.
"The trip was canceled," Ethan explained. "A student brought in some thugs to start a fight."
Selena nodded slowly, processing the news. "Have you eaten?"
"Yeah, we stopped for food on the way back," Ethan said.
"Okay, then go and get some rest." Selena leaned down and kissed his forehead. Ethan felt a wave of warmth at the gesture. "Mother, where is Grandpa?"
"He's at a friend's house for a while. They're working on a project together," she replied.
Across the city, Olivia knocked on her front door. It was opened by Mr. Wyatt—Enzo's father.
"Olivia? What are you doing here? Come in," he said, stepping aside. As soon as she entered, his brow furrowed. "Shouldn't you be on the trip? And where is Enzo?"
"There was an incident," Olivia said quietly. "That's why we're back."
Mr. Wyatt sat beside her and patted her head gently. "Where is Enzo, Olivia?"
"Father... there is something I need to tell you." Olivia took a deep breath. "Enzo is responsible for what happened. He brought thugs to the campsite to take revenge. I... I helped him."
She didn't stop there. she told him everything—the current incident and the mistakes of the past. As Mr. Wyatt listened, his eyes filled with tears.
"I wonder where I went wrong in raising him?" he whispered, his voice cracking.
"Father, it's not your fault," Olivia insisted, her own eyes watering. "It's our fault."
"No," Mr. Wyatt said, shaking his head. "A parent is responsible for his children. Enzo was such a good kid when he was small. The first time he acted out, I told myself it was just a teenage rebellion phase." His fingers curled into his knees, knuckles whitening. "I told myself it was just a phase…" he whispered. "I told myself he'd grow out of it.".
He looked at Olivia and forced a small, sad smile. "What am I doing? Crying in front of my daughter. Go on, Olivia, you should rest. You must be exhausted."
Olivia hesitated, then nodded and headed to her room. Mr. Wyatt walked out onto the balcony, looking down at the city lights. He thought back to when Enzo was a little boy—the day he had come to his father crying.
"Why are you crying, tough man?" his father had asked.
"Father, I want to learn martial arts," little Enzo had replied.
"Why?"
"I want to become strong so I can protect my friends from bad people."
Mr. Wyatt had been so proud of that conviction. He had taken the boy to see his friend, a man named Benson.
"That was the first time Enzo met Benson," Mr. Wyatt whispered to the night sky.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was the police. He felt a cold weight settle in his chest; he knew what this was.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Wyatt? This is the police station. We need you to come down as soon as possible. It's regarding your son."
Mr. Wyatt took a long, shaky breath."…I understand," Mr. Wyatt said quietly. The call ended. For a moment, he didn't move. Then he picked up his keys—and stepped into the night.
He grabbed his keys and walked out into the night.