11: A Fractured Goodbye

The infirmary smelled like antiseptic and clean linens, a stark contrast to the battlefield she had just left behind. Blaire sat stiffly on the examination bed, letting the school nurse clean the cuts on her arms. The sting barely registered—her mind was elsewhere.

Larkin.

His voice still echoed in her ears. His breath on her skin. The heat of his body pressed against hers.

You smell like him.

Blaire clenched her jaw. He had found his prey, and somehow, it was her.

The thought sent a cold wave of fear through her, sharp and unrelenting. She had been through enough fights to know when she was being hunted, but this… This was different. Larkin wasn't after her to defeat her. He wanted something else. Something she couldn't quite name—but she knew it wasn't something she could outrun.

"Blaire?"

Lydia's voice pulled her back to the present.

Blaire blinked, turning to see her friend sitting on the stool beside her, swinging her legs. Lydia's brown eyes shone with excitement, oblivious to the storm raging inside Blaire's head.

"We're really going," Lydia said, barely able to contain her smile. "To Aetheris Academy. Can you believe it?"

Blaire forced a small smile. "Yeah."

Lydia grinned wider. "I told you we'd make it. This is our chance, Blaire. A real fresh start. No more low-tier schools, no more struggling, no more being stuck in the dead-end towns. We're going to Aetheris Academy—where the best of the best go." She nudged Blaire's arm playfully. "Aren't you at least a little excited?"

Blaire hesitated.

Excited?

She had spent years dreaming about escaping this life, about getting away from everything that weighed her down. She had clawed her way through trials, ignored every sneer and doubt thrown her way, and now—she had won.

She was leaving.

For the first time, her future wasn't a dark void of uncertainty. It was bright.

She smiled, this time more genuine. "Yeah," she said softly. "I'm happy."

Lydia beamed.

And for a moment, Blaire allowed herself to feel it. The relief. The hope.

Because soon, everything would change.

They parted ways shortly after, Lydia heading back to her district while Blaire returned to Thrive High.

The bus ride back to school was surreal. The same cracked sidewalks, the same dull buildings, but for the first time, it didn't feel permanent. She wasn't trapped here anymore.

When she reached the principal's office, Mr. Caldwell was waiting for her with a rare smile.

"Blaire Delphine." He leaned back in his chair, studying her like she was something new. "The first student from Thrive High to make it into Aetheris Academy."

Blaire shifted on her feet, unsure of what to say.

Mr. Caldwell clasped his hands together. "You've done something remarkable. This will put our school on the map. No longer just another forgettable district school, but the place where an Aetheris student came from." His smile grew, almost proud. "Congratulations, Blaire."

She nodded. "Thank you, sir."

She didn't linger. The moment she stepped out of his office, the exhaustion hit her again, but beneath it was something lighter.

Hope.

She walked home slowly, trying to push away the lingering thoughts of Larkin. Aetheris was a massive academy, filled with powerful students. He wouldn't have time to fixate on her there. Unlike Silvercrest, where their world was small, at Aetheris, she'd be just one student among hundreds.

He'll forget about me.

The thought should have been comforting. So why did she feel uncertain?

The small, rundown one-bedroom house she called home greeted her with the same creaking door, the same flickering porch light.

Blaire stepped inside, pulling the acceptance letter she had put in her backpack.

She picked it up, running her fingers over the embossed seal.

Congratulations, Blaire Delphine. You have been selected for Aetheris Academy's prestigious program. All expenses are covered. Transportation will be provided at 7 AM.

Tomorrow.

By this time tomorrow, she would be gone.

Her eyes flickered around the small house. It was falling apart, a place no one would envy, but it had been home.

A faint smile touched her lips as memories surfaced—her mother singing in the kitchen when she was younger, the warmth of bedtime stories, the rare moments when things had been good.

But those moments had been swallowed by the years of alcohol, the fights, the disappointments.

Still…

Blaire swallowed.

Would her mother be okay without her?

She sighed and shook off the thought. She couldn't afford to worry about that now.

She packed quickly. There wasn't much to bring. She had never owned much.

By the time she finished, exhaustion won. She collapsed onto the sofa, too tired to think, and sleep claimed her instantly.

The sound of the front door slamming jolted her awake.

Blaire sat up, her body aching, her head heavy with sleep.

Her mother had returned.

Isabella Delphine stood in the doorway, swaying slightly, the sharp scent of alcohol clinging to her. Her dark brown hair was a mess, her eyes bloodshot, but despite the drunken haze, she was still beautiful—just… hollow.

Blaire exhaled, bracing herself.

"Where were you?" her mother muttered, voice slurred but laced with something sharp.

Blaire stood, stretching out her sore limbs. "At school. I passed."

Isabella blinked. "Passed what?"

"Aetheris Academy."

Silence.

Then—a slow, humorless chuckle.

"Oh," Isabella said, leaning against the doorframe. "So, you're leaving."

Blaire clenched her fists. "Yeah. In a few hours."

Isabella scoffed, pushing off the wall and staggering into the kitchen. "Good. Maybe you'll actually make something of yourself." She grabbed a half-empty bottle from the counter and took a long sip. "Better than rotting here."

Blaire should have felt relief at those words. But something about the way her mother said them made her chest tighten.

"I'll be gone for years," Blaire said carefully. "Are you gonna be okay?"

Isabella froze.

For a moment, the mask of indifference slipped.

Then she laughed again, though it sounded more bitter than amused.

"Since when do you care?"

Blaire's throat tightened.

"I always have."

Her mother stared at her, something unreadable flickering in her expression. Then, with an exhausted sigh, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a few crumpled bills.

"Here," Isabella said, tossing them onto the table. "It's not much, but take it."

Blaire stared at the money.

This wasn't the first time Isabella had thrown cash at her, but this felt different.

It wasn't an apology. It wasn't affection.

It was something else.

A quiet acknowledgment.

A goodbye.

Blaire picked up the bills, tucking them into her pocket. "Thanks."

Isabella swayed slightly before turning away. "Don't waste it."

She walked toward the bedroom, pausing at the doorway.

For a second, Blaire thought she might say something—something real.

But Isabella just muttered, "Good luck, kid," and shut the door behind her.

Blaire stood in the silence, heart pounding.

It wasn't much.

But it was the closest thing to love her mother had given in years.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and turned away.

Tomorrow, everything would change.

She just didn't know if she was ready for it.