Under Supervision
Gabrielle POV
The sun is starting to set by the time we finish a day packed with orienteering and team-building. Kidding ourselves this is just like any other senior retreat.
I can't quite let myself relax.
I’ve been on high alert ever since Mrs Carter paired me with Connor.
My chin had nearly hit the floor.
Connor had kindly informed me how Mrs Carter asked him to 'keep an eye on me after everything'.
How thoughtful.
“Yeah. She’s worried you might still be a bit shaken," he told me. "Thought it’d help if you weren’t on your own.”
Tess was too busy drooling over Rowan to save me, so I'd had no escape.
Still, I'd survived and now we’re sitting in the clearing for the pinnacle of the day: s'mores!
I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't enjoy this part. There's no age limit on enjoying these tasty babies.
I move closer to the fire pit. It's ringed with half-burnt logs and damp ash. We'll need more wood soon.
To my side Tess is talking. Something about Rowan – I think – but her words blur together. She’s half-turned in her seat, attention pulled sideways, eyes tracking movement nearby.
I follow her gaze.
There he stands with a group of older students, broad shoulders tense, jaw set like he’s bracing for impact. He isn’t smiling. He never is.
But there’s something different about the way Tess watches him now. Something intent.
I glance back at the fire and notice how crowded it's become.
Too many eyes.
Someone mutters under their breath. I don’t hear the words – but I know they’re about me. I can't help but lean closer to listen.
"I heard Connor saved her last night. If my hair were that colour, you wouldn't catch me in the woods alone."
Jesus. Of course he's being painted as the saviour. People in the reputable Hale family can do no wrong. I wonder if it would be the same if their donations weren't funding this whole adventure.
That’s when Connor sits down beside me.
Not across. Not opposite.
Beside. Facepalm.
“Hey,” he says easily, like we’re already mid-conversation. “You look like you could use some air.”
His voice is calm – strangely calm.
The tight knot that's sitting in my chest loosens slightly.
I stiffen anyway.
“We're already outside,” I jibe.
He doesn’t react. Doesn’t push.
He just leans back slightly, giving me space that feels calculated rather than kind.
I flick a glance at Tess.
She’s laughing now. Fully turned away from me.
Connor follows my gaze, then looks back at me with something like concern.
“We can grab some water. It’s quieter just beyond the clearing.”
A prickle slides down my spine – the same one I felt in the woods, the night he followed me.
For a second my instincts scream at me.
Don't.
But the warning fades almost as quickly as it arrives, like trying to remember a dream that slips away the moment you wake.
My hair glows by the firelight. Hushed words from across the fire. A subtle point in my direction.
Everyone's staring.
Everyone's whispering.
My thoughts begin to spiral, and suddenly my head's spinning. The heat of the fire suddenly feels too close. Too bright.
Connor's voice cuts through the noise again.
"Come on," he says quietly.
Just two words. But something about his voice tugs at my senses.
“Okay,” I hear myself say.
As soon as the word leaves my mouth, a strange heaviness fogs my brain. Like I’m not fully in control of my own body.
I know I shouldn’t have agreed.
Somewhere nearby, a teacher claps their hands, calling for attention.
“We’ll need more wood before it gets dark. Nothing heavy. Deadfall only. Stay within sight of your group.”
Everyone groans, but people start moving anyway - bending, gathering, laughing as they go.
I crouch near the edge of the clearing, breaking thin branches over my knee.
“Not those,” Connor says behind me.
I flinch, then straighten.
“What?”
He points past the trees. “They’re too green. Won’t burn properly.”
“Where, then?”
“There’s better stuff further in,” he says, already turning. “Away from the spotlight.”
I hesitate, but my thoughts feel thick suddenly. The firelight behind me flickers strangely, stretching shadows between the trees.
I find myself moving against thought.
I scan the clearing, searching for a lifeline.
Tess is on the other side, edging closer to Rowan with each passing minute. Now deep in conversation, her back half-turned. A few others are drifting outward too. Spreading, thinning, disappearing between trunks.
I don’t see any teachers nearby.
But I also don’t see anyone stopping us.
“Come on,” he adds, softer now. “You don’t want to be the one who brings back useless wood.”
Useless.
The word lands heavily. I want to argue. I open my mouth to... but instead I'm walking. Following him.
The noise from the clearing dulls, swallowed by trees.
Connor keeps walking.
“Just a little further,” he says, without looking back.
Up close, the woods feel smaller. The trees crowd in, trunks tight together, the path barely more than a suggestion underfoot.
The last of the light bleeds through the canopy in thin, fading strips. I adjust my grip on the branches, my chest tightening as something cold slides through me.
This feels wrong.
The light thins.
The birds stop.
I open my mouth to say it.
That’s when the air shifts.