2. Elowen
ELOWEN
The administrative wing is busier the following morning.
While I’m waiting to speak to Ms. Hartley, a student enters wearing tight-fitting white pants that sparkle in the daylight streaming through the wide entrance, a black and white sailor top, and open-toed sandals revealing perfectly manicured toenails.
A floppy white velvet bow in her long blonde hair completes the ensemble.
A man comes in behind her and sets a suitcase and matching carryon on down at her feet. Designer. With a distinct brown pattern that Lila would probably be able to name in an instant.
“Thank you, Daddy.” The student air kisses her father and flutters her fingers at him as he walks away.
“Elowen.” Ms. Hartley calls my name, her smile warm but efficient, and I realize I’m staring. “How can I help you?”
I step up to the desk, my rehearsed question about the greenhouse temporarily forgotten, as I avoid eye contact with the new arrival.
Strangely, I feel unsure about asking in front of her, like I’ll be judged for being more interested in growing plants than this season’s fashion trends.
I’ve clearly been watching too many of grandma’s reality TV shows that she likes to pretend are not her guilty pleasure.
“I, um…” I stall, wishing the new student would move on.
I get my wish when her voice carries around the grand foyer. "Calder!"
The name sends a pulse through me, and I instinctively glance toward the open doorway at the other end of the corridor.
He's there, the sleeves of a dark gray henley rolled up, talking to another student. An omega. The morning light catches the edge of his profile, and I find myself unable to look away. Calder’s attention reaches the new arrival who called his name, unfocused, until it drifts towards the front desk and settles on me.
The moment stretches. Not long. Just long enough.
His stormy gray eyes make my breath catch.
He doesn't smile. I tell myself he's comparing me in my sage-green sweater and pleated skirt to the new student in her sparkly white pants, and I turn away first.
The new omega pushes past me, leaving her luggage where it is in her haste to reach Calder. “I just arrived. The traffic out of the city was horrendous…”
“Elowen?” Ms. Hartley is still waiting for me to speak, her fingers busy shuffling papers across her desk.
I try to focus. “I wanted to ask about extracurricular activities.” I can’t mention the greenhouse now with Calder watching me too. “But it’s fine. I’ll come back later.”
Head down, I dart towards the entrance, the scuffed toe of my boot catching the wheel of the designer suitcase and sending it lurching precariously sideways. My heart performs a somersault. I grab the handle and manage to keep it upright. Barely.
When I risk a glance back, the omega has her back to me, oblivious, but Calder is still watching. Those gray eyes hold for another beat before he drags his attention back to the other student.
Outside, I tilt my face to the sun and wait for my pulse to regulate. He was obviously killing time in the greenhouse while he waited for his friends to arrive.
Girlfriend.
I don’t even know why I let him bother me so much. He won’t be back. We probably won’t attend any of the same lectures. We’ll barely see each other around campus.
But the heat pooling inside me isn’t listening.
Outside, the quad has filled with students sitting on benches, reading, and talking quietly. The early September weather is warm enough for short sleeves, cool enough to feel refreshing. I skirt the edges, content to observe rather than join. No one stops me. No one looks twice.
Near the path that leads toward the gates, Lila is talking to another student. She gestures for me to join them.
“Elowen, this is Seraphina Bloom. She’s the omega representative on the Student Council.”
I spot the tiny gold pin on the lapel of her blazer. She has Lila’s easy confidence but without the volume.
“Hey.” Seraphina smiles. “I would’ve spoken to you at some point about the omega study groups. They’re optional, but if you ever need anything, let Ms. Hartley know, and I’ll find you.”
She hands me a card, and I tuck it inside my bag. “Thank you. Will the building ever stop being a maze?”
She laughs, the sound infectious.
"You’ll soon get used to it. A few of us are heading into town. It’s a Saturday thing, coffee and wandering." She shrugs. "You're welcome to come. Or not. No pressure."
Before I can say "I'd like that," loud voices interrupt. Yelling.
Two security guards in dark-gray uniforms are escorting a man through the quad. They each hold an arm, while the man in the middle of them tries to wrench himself free, digging his sneakers into the ground and failing to get enough purchase to halt them in their stride.
“Let me go,” he yells. “I’ve not done anything wrong.”
I watch, frozen to the spot, as one guard, I don’t know his name yet, removes a baton from his pocket. He doesn’t use it, but the intention is clear.
“Do it!” the unwanted visitor shouts. “Assault me! I’ll still find out what really happened to my sister!”
His sister?
“Who is that?” I whisper.
“His name is Gideon Stockwell,” Seraphina keeps her voice low. “Iris Stockwell’s brother.”
Iris Stockwell: one of the omegas who died at Elderwood last year.
“What does he mean: he’ll find out what really happened to his sister?”
Seraphina hesitates, and it’s enough for a shudder to pass through me. “He has been talking to the press, claiming that Iris didn’t die of natural causes.”
“Holy shit,” Lila mutters. “It must’ve hit him really hard.” Her expression crumples. “They could show a little bit of compassion for him and ask him to leave quietly.”
“That’s the thing. This isn’t the first time.” Seraphina watches them till they disappear behind the building and then turns to face us. “The police had to get involved last semester. He isn’t going to stop until… well, I don’t know what will make him stop.”
“Do you think he’s right?” I ask.
“There was no post-mortem,” she explains, “because cause of death was recorded as heart failure.”
“How do you know all this?” Lila’s eyes are wide.
“I’m studying forensic science. There were a lot of questions following Iris’s death.” Seraphina pauses. “And the others. That’s what we were told.”
But that isn’t what Gideon Stockwell believes, and he’s still fighting it over a year later.
I check out the group gathered outside the Academy before we set off and quell my disappointment when Calder isn’t there. What was I hoping for? Acknowledgement? A coffee date? More?
The path to Elderwood Hollow winds gently downhill until stone and ivy give way to storefronts and quaint cobbled streets.
The town feels lived-in rather than curated, with hand-painted signs, mismatched chairs outside cafés, windows fogged with warmth.
The kind of town you’d expect to find in an episode of Bridgerton.
Lila and I gravitate towards a small café on the corner of the High Street, windows glowing amber in the late morning light.
Hearth & Honey is painted neatly on the door.
Inside, the air smells like bread and citrus and something sweet I can't quite place. Lila gets a vanilla latte, a chocolate brownie, and a pecan plait. I order tea and watch the barista to keep myself from peering through the window for a glimpse of a certain alpha.
Which is why, when I take my drink and turn around, I collide with a student I vaguely recognize from the group. My teacup wobbles on the tray, liquid splashes over the side, and I let out a squeal that makes everyone in the café turn around.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there,” I say, as my spoon clatters onto the floor.
I bend down to retrieve it as the student makes the same move, and I hit his chest again with the tray. This time, the drink doesn’t survive. I watch as tea splashes the front of his formal shirt and waistcoat before he can dodge it.
“Oh my god,” I say, trying to catch the remains of the liquid on the tray. “Is it hot? Are you okay?”
He stands there, staring down at his stained clothes, unable to meet my eyes. “Fortunately, there was ample time between the water being poured into the cup and it hitting me for it to not quite be at scalding level.”
I want to laugh. I almost do but stop myself when I realize he’s being serious. “I’ll pay for your clothes to be cleaned,” I offer.
“That won’t be necessary.” His voice softens as he straightens and looks at me for the first time. Then his gaze drifts to the empty cup sitting in a puddle of chamomile tea. “Let me get you another drink.”
I blink. “I threw my tea all over you.”
His scent reaches me then, old paper and winter berries, and my stomach clenches. His narrow features are handsome, his pale eyes so hypnotic I could overlook the embroidered waistcoat.
He isn’t listening. He is already ordering a replacement drink for me, and another to go for himself. “Perhaps it will be safer if I bring yours over,” he says, his tone neutral.
“Yes. Perhaps.” I nod once and scurry to the table by the window where Lila isn’t even trying to suppress a smile. “Don’t say a word,” I grind out as I sit down.
“I wasn’t going to.” She raises her hands in defense then leans closer. “He’s cute though. I mean if you had to spill your drink on someone—”
“What happened to not saying a word?”
“Sorry.” She giggles and then sucks her lips in as the alpha appears beside our table with my cup of tea.
“Perhaps we’ll bump into each other again around campus,” he says.
“Not literally, I hope,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
Lila barely contains her laughter until he has left the café and walked past the window. Then she picks up the cup and checks underneath the saucer.
“What are you looking for?” I ask.
“His number. I was certain he’d have written it down and left it underneath the cup.”
“He could’ve ended up in hospital being treated for scalds.” I close my eyes briefly. Day two, and I almost scarred an alpha for life.
“Exactly my point. You must’ve made an impression.” Lila bites into her brownie. “So, what’s his name?”
“I don’t know.” I raise my cup to my lips and inhale. It helps a little.
“You didn’t ask his name when you apologized?”
I replay the conversation in my head and it’s almost a blank. “I don’t remember apologizing.” I must’ve. I’m sure I did. At least, I hope I did.
“Perfect reason to speak to him again then.” Lila slants her eyes at me from behind her brownie.
When we leave the café, we explore Elderwood Hollow.
We dip in and out of The Olde Curiosity Shoppe (where Lila buys a ballerina marionette), Mrs. Bee’s Sweet Shoppe (where we both buy lemon candies filled with sherbet), and The Book Shop which, strangely, doesn’t have the extra ‘e’ on the end, (where Lila buys a cozy mystery and I buy a book called The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches).
As we approach the clock tower in the middle of the main street, I spot the guy from the café talking to another student. Another alpha. Effortlessly cool in faded denims and sporty polo, long hair curling around his ears, and an easy smile that makes me bite on my bottom lip without realizing.
“Oh, look,” Lila doesn’t even attempt to keep her voice down. “There’s the guy wearing your chamomile tea stain.”
I elbow her in the ribs. Too late. They both turn around to look at us at the same time, and my heart chooses now to leap out of my chest and loosen my grip on my purchases. The brown paper bag of candies splits as it hits the ground. Lila and I crouch down to pick them up.
“Is he looking?” My face is burning. “Please tell me he isn’t coming to help.”
“It’s okay, you’re safe. You probably scared him off in the café.” She chuckles.
I pick up the last stray candy as his friend walks past, cell phone raised to his ear. “Hey, Maya,” he says. “I was going to call you later.”
His voice fades, and I find myself watching his back, cheeks still blazing.
I stand up clutching my purchases tightly. “Maybe I should head back.”
Lila doesn’t respond. She’s watching Gideon Stockwell approaching other members of the group from the Academy, his shoulder sloping each time they shake their head and walk away. He stops, rakes his fingers through his hair, and peers around Main Street.
His gaze settles on us.
He must recognize us as students, because he heads our way, mouth set in a grim line of determination.
“Hello,” he says before we can escape. “Are you studying at Elderwood?”
Lila freezes. But something in his dull eyes tugs at my chest and makes me want to help him.
“Yes.” I hear Lila’s sharp intake of breath. “Are you Gideon Stockwell?”
He blinks rapidly. “My sister Iris died at Elderwood last year.” His gaze hops back and forth between me and Lila. “I don’t want to scare you, but you must be careful. I don’t believe that Iris died from natural causes. She was healthy. She did everything right. She…” His voice catches.
“I’m so sorry.” It’s what people said to me when my parents died because they didn’t know what else to say. “We will be careful. Thank you.”
We go to walk away, but he calls us back. “Will you help me?”
I turn back, aware of other students watching us. His eyes are pleading, and I know they’ll haunt me if I don’t at least find out what he wants. “I don’t know how we can.”
“Someone knows what happened to Iris. Someone is covering up the truth. If you see or hear anything suspicious…” He rummages in his pocket and produces a battered business card which he offers to me. “Will you call me? Please?”
Neither of us takes the card. “I’m sorry. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Please.” He’s desperate now.
“They’re carrying out regular health checks,” Lila says. “For omegas.” She backs away.
“It’s too little, too late.” His arm is still extended, the card in his trembling fingers.
I take it from him and stuff it inside my pocket. I don’t look back as we walk away.