Chapter 44
Andrea stood by the tall windows of Blackthorn’s main hall, staring at the snow-covered grounds outside. The usual bustle of students passed behind her, but none of them stopped to say hello. She glanced at her phone for the fifth time that morning, biting her lip as she opened her messages.
Her last text to Nathaniel sat unanswered: “Are you free tonight? I could use some company.”
It had been sent hours ago, and the lack of response gnawed at her. This wasn’t like him—at least, it hadn’t been.
Andrea sighed, tucking her phone into her bag and turning toward the main staircase. She’d see him eventually. He couldn’t ignore her forever.
The library was quiet, sunlight streaming through the large windows and pooling onto the polished wooden tables. Andrea sat at one of them, her notebook open in front of her.
Damien was a few feet away, flipping through a thick ledger. His sharp focus reminded her of how he used to include her in his work, handing her coded notes to decipher or asking for her opinion on the best way to handle a task.
But now, he barely looked at her.
“Here,” Damien said abruptly, sliding a stack of papers across the table.
Andrea blinked. “What’s this?”
“Summaries,” he said curtly. “Organize them into alphabetical order.”
Andrea’s heart sank. “Damien, can we talk? You’ve been—”
“I’m busy, Andrea,” he interrupted, his tone colder than she’d ever heard.
Her hands tightened around the papers. “But you used to trust me with more than this. What happened?”
Damien glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “Things change.”
He didn’t say anything more, returning to his work as if she wasn’t even there.
Andrea left the library with the weight of rejection pressing down on her chest. She didn’t know where else to turn, but her feet carried her toward the art studio.
The faint scent of turpentine and charcoal greeted her as she stepped inside. Gabriel was standing near an easel, his hands covered in charcoal as he worked on a sketch.
“Gabriel,” she said softly, her voice echoing in the quiet room.
He didn’t turn around. “What is it, Andrea?”
Andrea hesitated, stepping closer. “You’ve been distant. All of you have. Did I… do something wrong?”
Gabriel sighed, setting the charcoal down and wiping his hands on a rag. “It’s not about you,” he said, though his tone lacked warmth.
“Then what is it?” Andrea pressed. “I don’t understand. You all promised—”
“I’m busy, Andrea,” Gabriel said, cutting her off. He gestured toward the half-finished sketch. “This project won’t finish itself.”
Andrea’s throat tightened. “Gabriel, I thought I mattered to you.”
He finally turned to face her, his expression guarded. “You do. But right now, I need to focus on other things.”
The dismissal in his voice was like a slap. Andrea nodded stiffly, fighting back tears as she turned and left the studio.
The hallways of Blackthorn felt colder than usual as Andrea made her way to her next class. She passed Liam near the central staircase, his familiar tousled hair and confident stride catching her attention.
“Liam,” she called out, her voice wavering.
Liam glanced at her but didn’t stop walking. His usual playful smile was nowhere to be seen.
“Hey,” he said flatly before continuing down the hall.
Andrea stood frozen, her chest tightening. She hadn’t realized how much she’d relied on Liam’s lighthearted presence until it was gone.
By the time Andrea reached her dorm room, her heart felt like it had been shattered into a thousand pieces. She shut the door behind her, leaning against it as the tears finally came.
She sank onto her bed, pulling her knees to her chest. The Joker card sat on her desk, its mocking grin staring back at her.
Andrea let out a bitter laugh, tears streaming down her cheeks. “It’s fitting,” she muttered. “That’s all I am now—a joke.”
Her phone buzzed beside her, and she grabbed it with trembling hands, hoping for a message from Nathaniel.
It wasn’t him. It was a reminder about an upcoming class project.
Andrea set the phone down, the familiar ache of abandonment settling deep in her chest. Nathaniel’s warmth, Damien’s trust, Gabriel’s quiet encouragement, Liam’s humor—they had all disappeared, leaving her with nothing but silence.
She wiped at her eyes, trying to steady her breathing. The people she had trusted the most had withdrawn, leaving her alone in a school that felt like it was designed to crush her.
For the first time since arriving at Blackthorn, Andrea felt truly isolated.
Her gaze drifted back to the Joker card. She reached for it, holding it between her fingers as a single tear slid down her cheek.
“I thought you said I belonged,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I thought you said you’d protect me.”
The silence of the room was her only answer.
