Fiona and Steve walked side by side down the academy hallway, their footsteps soft against the stone floor.
The corridor, long and quiet, was bathed in the golden remnants of the mounted torchs.
Neither of them said much. The silence between them wasn't awkward—it was heavy, thoughtful, as if both were searching for the right words but hadn't found them yet.
Eventually, they were guided through the tall archways and down the steps that led to the courtyard of the academy.
The courtyard was wide and open, overlooking the distant fields and forest, now slowly dissolving into the deep blues and violets of the approaching night sky. A faint breeze stirred the edge of Fiona's hair.
Steve paused for a moment before guiding her to a bench nestled near the far edge of the porch.
He had chosen that particular bench on purpose.
He didn't really want to be on the courtyard at all, not in the open like this.
He was already toeing a delicate line. The rumors, the whispers… and Tonya.
