Bonus Content
If you are wondering why Ben and Dom's POV's aren't included here, it's because Dom's was already included in Silence Desires, and Ben meets her at the same time as Atlas (and Dom) but doesn't interact with her directly.
Gideon
The moment Helen Davies walks into my office, I recognize the type—rigid posture, expensive perfume, and the kind of condescending tone that suggests she believes the world should cater to her every whim. But it’s not her that draws my attention. It’s the girl trailing behind her.
She keeps her head down, shoulders tense, and eyes fixed on the floor as though making eye contact might cost her something. I note the slight flinch when the door closes behind them. The reaction is small, barely perceptible, but I see it.
“Good morning, ladies. Welcome to McAdams High, Mina,” I say, keeping my voice calm and even. The girl—Mina—doesn’t move. Not even a glance in my direction. Instead, she remains still, waiting for some sort of permission.
Her mother sinks into one of the chairs without a second thought. Mina stays standing. Is it deliberate? Has she been conditioned not to sit unless told? The tightness in my jaw increases.
“Please excuse her bad manners, Mr. Hargrove. Like I said, she has a bit of an attitude problem.”
That isn’t what I see. What I see is a girl trying to take up as little space as possible, a girl whose every movement is measured and cautious. This is more than simple shyness.
“I’m sure she’ll be fine, Mrs. Davies,” I reply, retrieving the papers from my desk. “I have her schedule ready right here.”
“Oh, Mr. Hargrove, I thought we spoke about this yesterday. She really doesn’t need all these classes. She’ll be lost in them anyway, since she can’t read or write.”
Mina doesn’t even react. No protest, no shift in body language. Just silence. But I catch the way her hands tighten at her sides. A flicker of something—anger? Humiliation? Either way, she’s learned not to show it.
“All students at this school are placed in classes with their peers. Otherwise, it can create socialization issues that could last a lifetime.”
“Yes, well, she already has those issues, so I don’t really see the need—”
“Isn’t that the reason you’re enrolling her now? To help with her socialization?” I keep my tone professional, but I don’t leave room for argument. “Regardless, it’s the way we do things here. All students are treated equally, you understand?”
Mrs. Davies presses her lips together, but she doesn’t argue further. Mina, however, remains perfectly still, as if afraid any movement might draw attention to her.
“Well, she has her coloring books in her bag, so she can just sit in the back and play with those,” her mother says.
Coloring books? My grip on the papers tightens. Is that really all Mina is capable of? She has done nothing but stand in my office silently, yet I have the feeling there is more to her than that.
“If that’s all she can do, then that’s fine,” I say smoothly, though my stomach churns. “Her teachers have all been informed of her condition.”
Mina finally twitches. Just barely. But I see it.
Mrs. Davies waves a hand dismissively. “Yes, like I told you yesterday, the car accident took away her ability to speak, read, write, or do much of anything. She occasionally suffers from anger issues and aggressive episodes, but she is not medicated for it. If she acts up, you can just lock her in a room and call me.”
Mina’s whole body tenses, but she says nothing. I lean back in my chair, studying the girl in front of me. There’s no sign of aggression there, only fear.
“I’m sure it won’t come to that, Mrs. Davies,” I say carefully.
Her mother stands, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeves. “Well, it looks like you have everything handled here, then. I’ll see you after school, Mina. Don’t be late,” she says, practically snarling at her daughter. She must be one of the fakest people I’ve ever met.
She gives Mina’s shoulder a firm squeeze as she passes—too firm. The kind of grip meant to warn rather than comfort. And then she’s gone, the door clicking shut behind her.
I’m pretty good at reading people, I do it for a living after all. Being the school’s guidance counselor lets me exercise those skills. I turn my attention to the girl sitting in front of me. She’s not what I was expecting.
Silence fills the room.
Mina doesn’t move. She keeps her head down, fingers clenched into fists.
I exhale slowly.
“Mina, there is still a little time before class, do you want to take a seat and I can tell you about your schedule and what you can expect here?” She still hasn’t lifted her head since she walked into my office.
It was only yesterday her mother called me to tell me about her unruly daughter who she kept home because of behavior issues, which then turned into extreme self isolation and socializing problems. I have never, in my life, heard of a trouble making student that did such a 180 to the point of being mute and unable to interact with people normally.
I know there’s more to this story, I’m just not sure what exactly Helen is lying about.
I start to wonder if Mina actually can’t understand me or isn’t listening, but then she finally, slowly, takes a few steps forward and lowers herself into one of the chairs across from me at my desk.
I give her a big smile, not that she can see it with her head down, staring at her hands in her lap.
“You have math, science, art, and gym. Your mother says you have coloring books to keep you busy, and I will have another student help you find your classes, sound good?” I realize I have no idea what kind of independence this girl has.
She flinches when I mention the coloring books. I wonder what that’s about?
Her hand slowly comes out to cautiously pick up the schedule from where it sits on my desk. She takes a minute to look over it, then gives her head a quick nod.
I let out a breath of air, pleased she has some independence and doesn’t need full-time support. We were short staffed as it was.
“Brilliant. You should also know I’m your guidance counselor, and you’re welcome to come see me anytime about anything. You understand?” She doesn’t move. “Mina, can you look at me, honey?”
Honey?
Bollocks! Why did I say that? It just sort of slipped out.
“Please, look at me, Mina,” I ask again softly. I watch as she slowly lifts her head and her eyes finally move up to connect with mine. It’s like fireworks go off in my chest and try not to gasp. This girl is stunning with her pale green eyes, round cheeks and gorgeous face.
Blimey! I have to stop thinking like that, she might be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, but she’s also only seventeen and a high school student, not to mention all the other reasons I can’t get involved with her.
But she doesn’t look seventeen, despite the braided pigtails she’s sporting.
As I continue to stare into her eyes, I feel like I can see right into her soul, and it makes my chest ache.
She radiates sadness. Is that the isolation doing that to her?
Or something else? Is she in on her mother’s scheme, whatever that is?
She bites her lower lip and I quickly adjust myself and try to think about why I wanted her to look at me in the first place.
“Ahem. Right. Well, as I was saying, I’m your guidance counselor, and you can come talk to me about anything, okay, Mina?
It could be about your classes, or problems with your peers, or even problems at home.
You come to me, and I will help you. Do you understand? ”
I am really trying to make sure she knows she could come to me for anything, and I hoped she did. It was the whole reason I was in this job. Although if she really was mute, I wasn’t sure how she would talk to me. She gives me a shy nod and I smile at her.
“Good girl.” Her cheeks tinge pink and she looks down at her feet again. Bullocks, there I go again, saying inappropriate things.
I clear my throat, and change the direction of the conversation.
“Alright, why don’t I show you to your first class?
” I stand and move past Mina to open the door, giving her space.
She stands slowly, shuffling her feet as she follows, her shoes dragging against the floor.
I frown at them, they seem too big for her small frame.
As we step into the hallway, I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. She keeps her head down and her posture stiff, as if bracing for something. I keep my pace steady so she doesn’t fall behind.
“Mina, I have a couple questions I need to ask you,” I say carefully, keeping my tone even. “Please forgive me if my questions offend you in any way, but I need to make sure you are safe here. Do you know what a fire alarm sounds like?”
She gives a small, barely perceptible nod. I sigh in relief.
“Good, good, and you know what to do if you hear one? You get out of the building. Just follow the other students out,” I explain. She nods again, silent as ever.
We reach the classroom, and I gesture toward the open door. “This is your math class. Mrs. Pinkins is your teacher.”
Mina hesitates at the threshold, peering inside. The room is half full of students, a handful of them turn to look at her with open curiosity. She immediately drops her gaze to the floor, her body tensing.
Then, her breathing starts to change. It starts shallow, quickening at an alarming rate. Her shoulders shake slightly, and she grips her chest as if trying to hold herself together. Bullocks! Is she having a panic attack? Helen never mentioned this.
I step in front of her, subtly guiding her a few steps away from the doorway to give her some space away from prying eyes. “Mina, you need to calm down, just take a deep breath for me. Come on now.”
She doesn’t respond. Her breathing grows more erratic, and her face turns pale. My worry for her increases as I try to reach her.
“Mina, look at me. Come on, honey…” I soften my voice, trying to get through to her.