Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Rule Number Ten of Adeline’s Guide to Overcoming Loneliness: Adeline, remember you aren’t truly alone.
Somewhere, someone is holding your story in their heart—you just haven’t met them yet.
There are people out there waiting to know you, there are others who will simply understand you.
Trust that the path forward is brighter than what you can see right now.
I leave lunch early. Not just because I can’t afford it—though that is reason enough—but because the stares and whispers seem louder than my own thoughts at this point.
If what they’re trying to remind me of is that I don’t belong, then they don’t even need to bother. Unfortunately for me, I’m fully aware.
As I walk toward my locker, I feel it—the weight of someone’s stare pressing into my back. I don’t need to turn to know who it is, but I do anyway.
Naomi.
The anger currently etched into her face is a language I know too well. A familiar story she’s ready to tell again, except I already know the ending. My stomach knots. My pulse quickens.
What did I do now?
“You know it’s funny how you seem to have no problem using your friends’ money for yourself when you give us almost nothing. What about me? What about Sam? It feels like you’re not even trying.” She speaks calmly, but the irritation is blatantly clear.
I open my mouth to interject, to tell her I have no idea what she’s talking about.
That I haven’t eaten anything. But she doesn’t even give me a chance.
I have no room to breathe, let alone speak.
And honestly, all it’s doing is making me more and more frustrated with every bit of nonsense she spurts.
And then it happens. Something inside me cracks, completely snaps, to the point I don’t even recognize myself.
“What about me?” My voice shakes as the words tumble out.
“No, Naomi, what about me? What about your youngest sister who has given everything to you? I mean I’ve given you my whole life!
And I don’t even get a thank-you. I get nothing.
So don’t you dare—don’t you dare try to overlook everything I’ve done for this family. ”
The words spill out faster now, and yet I know it’s no use. She’s always been blind. Tears blur my vision, but I don’t care. I’m too far gone to stop.
“I kept this family alive,” I continue, my voice quivering with pure anger. “I put food on the table. Not you. Not Sam. Not even Mum. Me, I did it.”
The silence that follows is deafening. Naomi stares at me, her confidence shattered, her mouth slightly open as if searching for a response. And for a fleeting moment, I think I’ve gotten through to her.
But then the truth hits me, right in the face.
Slicing straight through any splinter of fragile hope I had.
So much, I almost curse myself for having it in the first place.
Hope is a cruel thing though—not so easy to escape either.
Always staying just far enough ahead that you can never quite catch it, but close enough that you keep trying.
“You spread the rumour, didn’t you?” I whisper, my voice trembling with disbelief.
Her silence is all the confirmation I need. Her gaze drops, and the subtle shift in her expression says everything. It was her.
I should have known. Deep down, maybe I did. In fact, I had been told in that note. I guess I just didn’t want to believe it. But knowing doesn’t dull the sting of betrayal.
Naomi turns to leave without a word, without an apology. And it only makes me angrier. The bitterness clings to my tongue as I watch her retreat, it is hurting my heart more than I’d like to admit.
With trembling hands, I fumble to hide my face away. Burying it in the confined darkness of my locker because I have nowhere else. And because behind its metal door, I can let my tears flow freely. And it’s behind that metal door, that my heart breaks, silent sobs wracking my body.
Completely silent.
I wish I could stay hidden forever.
***
When I finally pull myself together, at least enough to think straight, I turn around and freeze.
Kai Steele.
He leans casually against the lockers opposite me, his presence filling the hallway like a shadow that doesn’t belong. His eyes are fixed on me, and I see him, and yet he doesn’t say a word.
My cheeks burn with embarrassment.
“How much of that did you see?” I ask, my voice trembling despite my best efforts.
His expression remains unchanged, his eyes glinting with intensity. “Enough,” he says simply. “And what a lovely display of righteousness that was. That how you usually deal with things?” he adds, voice flat.
I freeze, hand still brushing the cold metal of the locker. For a second, I don’t know how to answer. Maybe because it’s true. Maybe because his presence unsettles something in me I don’t quite understand.
I glance at him, then away. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
He shrugs. “Not asking for a speech. Just making an observation.”
“But she’s my sister,” I say quietly.
Something flickers in Kai Steele’s eyes then, too quick to name, but not quick enough to miss. A crack in the armour. Not empathy, not quite. Recognition, maybe.
But it’s gone before I can place it.
He exhales and lowers his voice just slightly. “Doesn’t mean she gets to wreck you. Unless… you enjoy the feeling of a leash around your neck? Is that it? Maybe it makes you feel important to be pulled around like some dog.”
I bite down on the words forming behind my teeth. It’s not worth it. He’s baiting me.
“There’s a difference,” he says calmly, yet there are storms in his eyes, “between being heroic and being stupid.”
“I’m not being stupid.”
“Oh yeah?” he replies, taking a slow step closer.
But before he can move another step, I say, “You were the boy from the bus, weren’t you?”
He stops in his tracks. A half-smirk plays on his lips—charming in all the wrong ways. “Impressive,” he says. “Good eye.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
He cocks his head. “You were already giving a monologue. I didn’t want to interrupt the show.”
I flush, embarrassed.
He pushes off the lockers and crosses the space between us in just a few steps. He’s taller than me by more than I care to admit, in fact I barely reach his shoulder, and now he’s towering over me. And even though he’s tall anyway, he seems even taller now. More intimidating.
I want to step back, to leave, to do anything, but I can’t. My feet won’t move and my breath catches in my throat as he leans in closer, his dark eyes scanning my face as if searching for something. And then, just as quickly, something flickers across his expression —
guilt? Disgust? Whatever it is, it’s gone before I can make sense of it.
He quickly averts his gaze, as if angry with himself. Then without another word, Kai Steele turns and begins walking off.
But just before he disappears, I find my voice.
“There was a moment,” I say, my voice soft, “on the bus.”
He stops.
“When you went completely still.”
Kai Steele doesn’t turn around, but his shoulders shift—tense. It’s a subtle motion, like a breath caught between inhale and exhale.
“It was like… everything in you just froze. Like you weren’t even there for a second.” I hesitate, then add, “Does that happen a lot?”
The silence that follows is heavy. Tense. I can hear my own heartbeat in the space between us.
“Pardon?” he asks, turning slowly, and that same charm is back in full force, painted across his face. His eyes, though—his eyes are colder than before.
“A moment?” he repeats coolly. “How poetic of you to notice.”
I swallow. “It didn’t look—normal. You just… froze. Like something was wrong… I—is there?”
Kai Steele tilts his head, a curious smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Let me clarify something for you, Adeline, since we’ve apparently arrived at the stage where you feel entitled to ask me personal questions.”
His voice drops, all velvet and poison. “Don’t presume,” he says,
“that your vocabulary is large enough to define what I feel.”
His eyes linger on mine, unblinking.
“And pity,” he says, almost thoughtfully, as if tasting the word on his tongue, “is a clumsy thing on you.”
I feel the flush again, creeping back up my neck.
“But you looked —”
“Human?” he finishes for me, brows lifting slightly. “God
forbid.”
And then he steps back, just enough to let the chill return between us.
“I’d be careful with assumptions, Adeline,” he says, straightening his cuffs, already halfway to gone. “They have a charming way of turning on you when you least expect it.”
I feel heat rise to my face, the same flush as before, but this time it’s coloured with something else. Embarrassment. Maybe a little shame.
Then, with that same graceful disdain, he offers a final look over his shoulder.
“Forgive me, if I’ve embarrassed you,” he says calmly, almost intimately, yet his face remains frightfully blank. “That was never my intention.”
And before I can speak—before I can even breathe properly—Kai Steele turns on his heel and walks away without looking back.
***
Walking into the English class, I scan the room, and there, in the corner, sits Christian, engrossed in his book, seemingly oblivious to the world around him. I admire it, honestly, but mostly, I understand it.
For as long as I can remember I’ve been obsessed with books… a place where words became friends and pages turned into whole worlds.
Perhaps magic truly does exist. I smile at the thought.
On the other side of the room, Naomi and Ava chatter away.
Their voices are too loud, too pointed, and I make a point not to listen.
Instead, I avoid their gaze and head toward Ajax, who’s waving enthusiastically from our usual seats.
Ajax kind of reminds me of a golden retriever, always so cheerful.
He’s always smiling, always happy and radiating an infectious type of warmth. You just can’t help but like him.