Chapter 32 #5
Lilia steps forward. “Anderson does it himself?”
Zia’s lips press together slightly, then she nods. And with that, she simply tucks her phone back in her pocket and walks away.
Lilia and I don’t move.
We stay there, standing in the middle of the corridor, watching her retreat with a kind of mutual, silent dread.
And then, slowly, we turn to look at each other.
I swallow. Lilia does the same. But before she can spiral out loud, I grab her by the arm and pull her down the hallway.
“We’ll be late,” I say, voice steadier than I feel.
“She definitely knows something,” she whispers, pulling her coat tighter around her. “Did you see how she froze when we asked about Anderson?”
“I did.”
“And she kept dodging the question.”
I hum in agreement. “Yeah, well, considering you literally stood in her way, I think she just wanted to get away before you tried interrogation round two.”
Lilia scoffs, looking thoroughly unimpressed with me. “I’m sorry, would you rather I just let her leave with all her valuable information?”
True.
We turn the corner, the classroom coming into view, and Lilia groans audibly at the sight of it. “Ugh. This is gonna be so awkward,” she mutters. “What if he can sense we’re suspicious?”
I frown. “What do you think he’s going to do? Look into our eyes and read our souls?”
“Well, I wouldn’t put it past him.”
I smirk, but before I can say anything else, I spot Liam and Ava walking toward the classroom.
It’s not surprising to see either of them, but it is surprising to see them together.
I knew they were siblings, but for some reason, I had never really seen them in the same space. For some reason, they existed separately in my head.
And yet, here they are.
Talking.
And as we get closer, I can actually hear them.
“Liam, no,” Ava says, voice flat.
Liam shrugs, entirely unbothered. “I’m just saying—”
“I don’t care what you are just saying,” she cuts in, looking physically pained by whatever argument they’re having.
Liam grins at her, infuriatingly amused. “You’re just mad because I gave Percy back to Kai.”
Ava stops walking for half a second, inhales deeply like she’s actually battling with her self-control, then continues walking without looking at him. “You’re actually so annoying.”
Liam chuckles, clearly enjoying whatever this conversation is.
Ava scoffs, clearly not enjoying it at all. Without another word, she shoves him toward the classroom door.
Liam, still laughing, stumbles slightly before catching himself and disappearing inside.
Ava follows a second later, muttering something under her breath that I don’t think is particularly kind.
Lilia tilts her head slightly. “Huh.”
I glance at her. “What?”
She shrugs, thoughtful. “I don’t know. It’s just funny seeing them together. I always forget that they’re siblings.”
The class is already half-full, students settling into their usual seats, notebooks out, bored expressions firmly in place.
And Anderson stands at the front, adjusting something on his desk, and the second we step inside, he looks up.
His expression doesn’t shift, but his posture does—straightening slightly, acknowledging our arrival.
“Good morning,” he says, polite. Normal.
Lilia stops walking and just stares.
I nudge her not-so-subtly in the side, leaning closer to whisper, “You’re staring.”
Lilia blinks, like she just came out of a trance. “Oh.” Then, after a pause, “Gross.”
Anderson watches us as we settle in, but I keep my expression neutral, even as my stomach twists, and my heart literally flies out of my mouth.
I make my way back to my usual spot and, like an idiot, make a colossal mistake. Because just as I move past, my gaze flickers—completely by accident, I swear—toward Kai.
Yeah. Big mistake.
He’s leaning back in his chair, one arm slung carelessly across the backrest. Not a trace of boredom on his face this time, though. His eyes catch mine, and for a beat too long, he holds them. A slow, knowing smile curves at the corner of his mouth.
Will, sitting next to him, watches this entire exchange with an eyebrow raised, glancing between us, before his gaze lands back on Kai. He mutters something to him that I can’t make out, but I’m not sure I want to know either way.
“Subtle,” Liam mutters from the seat next to mine as I finally sit down.
I huff but say nothing, reaching into my bag to grab a pen.
Liam leans back; arms draped over the back of his chair. “How’s the leg?”
“Better,” I say.
He nods, then tilts his head. “Face still hurt?”
Across from us, Christian looks over then too. I smile at him. “Way better. I took some painkillers.”
Liam nods approvingly. “Well, honestly, I was expecting you to come back with crutches, so this is great.”
I shake my head. “Nope, no crutches. Just mildly traumatized.”
Liam taps his fingers against the desk. “Eh, emotional damage builds character. You’ll be unstoppable by next term.”
I try to smile, but there’s something else that’s bothering me. Something I haven’t let myself think too hard about.
I hesitate, then glance at Liam. “Hey, Liam.”
He leans back slightly. “Yeah?”
I exhale, choosing my words. “Did you happen to be at the hospital yesterday?”
I wait, watching Liam carefully. Because I already know the answer.
I just want to hear him say it.
Liam looks shocked for a moment. It’s brief—barely a flicker—but it’s there. His head tilts just slightly, the muscles in his jaw tightening before he quickly smooths his expression.
“The hospital?” he repeats, his voice carefully neutral.
I open my mouth to say something, to push just a little more because I know what I saw.
“Miss Ross.”
I freeze.
My stomach plummets.
Slowly, reluctantly, I turn to see Anderson watching me.
Oh god.
“What did I just say?” he asks smoothly.
I blink.
Think.
And then, with soul-crushing realization, I come to the only possible conclusion.
I was absolutely not listening. Not even a little.
“Um…” I stall, shifting slightly in my seat. “Sorry, I’m not sure.”
His mouth presses into a line, disappointment practically radiating from his posture. “Well,” he says, with far too much satisfaction, “if you weren’t listening, I suppose you can answer this question for me?”
Oh.
Oh, that’s evil.
I don’t get a chance to respond before I catch Lilia’s face out of the corner of my eye.
She’s looking at me, her brows raised slightly, mouth pressed into something that isn’t quite a smile but isn’t exactly concern either. It’s encouraging, or at least it’s trying to be. Her best attempt, knowing what we were just talking about minutes before.
And I don’t have time to appreciate the effort because Anderson is already clicking a button on his remote, and the projector screen flickers to life. A single question appears in bold white font against a dark slide.
What makes a fair business?
I somehow manage to rip my gaze away from the question—only to make an entirely new mistake.
I catch Berlin’s eye.
She’s looking directly at me, and all I see is ice-cold disdain. Or more accurately, a full-on glare.
She really doesn’t like me.
Great. Love that for me.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. My mind is blank, my throat dry. This is the kind of question I should know how to answer—theoretically. But now that all eyes are on me, the words don’t come.
Anderson waits, expectant.
I clear my throat, speaking slowly. “Um… I guess… a fair business would be one that… treats people equally?”
It comes out almost like a question, which is humiliating, and I internally cringe.
Anderson tilts his head slightly. “Expand on that.”
I inhale, forcing myself to think.
I pick at the hem of my sleeve, keeping my eyes anywhere but the front of the room. “Well… a fair business should, um… have transparency. Equal opportunity. It should—” I hesitate, then take a quiet breath, forcing the nerves down. “It shouldn’t be exploitative.”
Anderson hums, as if considering that. “Exploitative how?”
I sit up slightly. “It shouldn’t take advantage of people. Whether it’s employees or customers, it should be built on something real—not manipulation or loopholes or hiding behind policies that only serve those in power.”
Anderson nods once, but I notice the way he watches me now—more focused, more interested.
“Go on,” he says.
I wet my lips. I should stop there. I know I should. But something about the way he’s looking at me—so composed, so infuriatingly calm…
Did you really do this?
“Of course, fairness in business is subjective,” I continue. “Some would argue that a fair business is simply one that follows the law… but laws can be bent. Just because something is technically legal doesn’t mean it’s right.”
I glance at Anderson briefly, watching for any reaction.
And then, as the words come, I don’t look away. And then, because I just can’t help myself, I let my tone turn just a fraction sharper.
“And, of course, a fair business would also be accountable. Because when people in power aren’t held accountable, they tend to think they can get away with anything. And that…” I pause just for a second, my gaze locked onto his, my voice steady now. “That isn’t fair at all.”
A beat of silence.
Anderson holds my gaze.
His expression doesn’t change. But something in his eyes flickers—something quick, before it disappears just as fast.
Then, finally, he nods once. “An interesting perspective,” he says simply, before turning back toward the board.