The air in the office felt heavier once the others left. The faint click of the door closing behind Melanie and Grayson seemed to echo longer than it should have, leaving behind a silence thick with unspoken tension.
Ethan remained standing, his hands still clenched at his sides, his knuckles white from how tightly he had been gripping his own frustration. He hadn't moved. Hadn't spoken. But the anger simmering in his hazel eyes hadn't faded either.
Eleanor sighed and leaned back in her chair, pressing two fingers against her temple as if willing away an oncoming headache. It was only midday, and she had already handled two brawls, four disciplinary hearings, and now this mess. The academy was in chaos, students turning on each other, power struggles happening in every corner. And at the center of it all?
Ethan.
She dropped her hand and finally looked at him. He was still tense, but his breathing was steady—controlled, despite everything. That, at least, was a good sign.
