chapter 20

I BLINKED, my eyelids feeling as though they were weighed down by a heavy fog. The world around me came into focus, the muted colors of my bedroom slowly taking shape in the dim morning light.

An unfamiliar weight rested on my arms, and I realized they were covered by Mamori's palm. Her hand let out a soft glow on my skin, and I felt the warmth of the energy entering my body. It took a moment for my foggy brain to process the situation. I tried to lift my arms to sit up, but my muscles felt like jelly. The slightest movement sent a wave of pain through my body, and I couldn't stifle the groan that escaped my lips. The sound caught Mamori's attention, and she turned to face me, her eyes filled with concern.

"Prim, you're awake," she said softly.

"What...what happened?" I managed to whisper, my throat dry. The words felt foreign on my tongue, as if I hadn't spoken in days.

Mamori frowned, her delicate brow furrowing with worry. "I'm not sure. All I know is that Sebastian carried you back here last night, completely unconscious. Noelle was also hurt too; I do not know why, but I was able to help her last night. Right now, she's feeling a lot better."

I racked my brain, trying to recall the events that led up to my current state. But it was as though a thick fog had settled over my memories, obscuring everything from view. There was nothing—an emptiness that left me feeling anxious. I just can't remember anything.

Mamori continued, though, her words doing little to alleviate my confusion. "Also, Miss Alice took the boy they saved yesterday in. His name is Andreus, though Miss Alice has yet to introduce him to us. Sebastian, Billy, Aria, and Lennox were there too. I just can't remember how you came inside the home in this condition. Are you sure you don't remember anything?"

I tried to, but I just can't. I shook my head weakly to reply no, my mind still grasping at the shrouded memories, hoping to find some semblance of understanding. But the harder I tried, the more elusive those memories became, slipping through my mental fingers like wisps of smoke.

Mamori's expression softened, and she brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. "Don't worry. We'll figure out what happened to you. But for now, you need to rest, okay?"

Her words were a gentle command, and I knew she was right. My body was still weak, and my mind was too foggy to be of any use. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to drift back into the comforting darkness of sleep.

As I hovered between my rests, I could feel the warmth of Mamori's palm on my chest. The heat seeped into my body, chasing away the chill that had settled into my skin. It felt as if it were tethering me to the world as the fog threatened to pull me under. And though my memories remained blank, I knew something had happened. I just couldn't tell.

"Also," Mamori said, smiling ever so faintly, "the boy Miss Alice saved yesterday hasn't left his room. He's still too traumatized over something." Mamori's voice was so gentle as if she was afraid to shatter my fragile state of mind.

I furrowed my brow, trying to remember anything that happened yesterday, but my memory seemed to be a blur. It was as if someone had smudged the colors of my recollection, leaving behind a hazy painting with no discernible shapes or forms.

As I strained to piece together the fragments of my memory, my gaze wandered around the room. That's when I noticed that Ophelia was missing from her usual spot on the windowsill. Panic surged through me, my heart hammering against my chest. "Where's Ophelia?" I asked Mamori, my voice shaking.

Mamori, sensing my distress, quickly tried to calm me down. "Prim, stay calm. Your body is severely stressed, and it's not ready for any strain. Otherwise, your arms and your body will hurt even more," she warned, her tone firm yet gentle. "Ophelia went outside of your room. She's fine, I promise."

Before Mamori could continue, the door to my room creaked open, and in walked Bryce, cradling Ophelia in his arms. The sight of Ophelia nestled comfortably against his chest brought a wave of relief that washed over me. My pulse slowed, my breathing steadied, and my mind began to clear. Gosh, I thought I lost Ophelia too.

As I watched Bryce gently stroke Ophelia's silky fur, I couldn't help but remember the night I had seen him petting her. It was when he was alone with Ophelia. I commonly knew Bryce as someone who always seemed so mysterious and cold, but that day, he appeared to have a soft spot for animals. I found myself thinking it was almost... cute.

I shook my head, bewildered by my own thoughts. Why on earth was I thinking about him like that? I'd never been the type to get lost in thoughts of boys or romance. Yet, there was something about Bryce that seemed to be cracking the walls I'd built around myself.

As Bryce approached my bedside and carefully set Ophelia down beside me, our eyes met for a brief moment. His intense gaze seemed to pierce through my defenses, making me feel exposed and vulnerable. But just as quickly, he averted his eyes and retreated to the other side of the room, his expression once again an unreadable mask.

"Sorry," he said.

For what? I mentally said to myself, my fingers absently stroking Ophelia's soft fur. She purred contentedly beside me, her eyes half-closed in blissful relaxation. I envied her ability to find peace in such a simple act, while my own thoughts raced like a storm-tossed sea.

As I slowly stirred from my bed, I noticed both Mamori and Bryce sharing a nonchalant look, as if they were communicating in a secret language only they understood. Mamori then smiled, turned towards me, and laughed.

"I'd leave you two for now so you can have your privacy," she said.

As Mamori's footsteps faded down the hallway, Bryce waited a few seconds before sauntering over and lowering himself onto the wooden frame of my bed. My chest felt as if it were pounding against my ribcage, and I couldn't help but focus on the opposite side of the bed, hoping to hide my anxiety. For a moment, the silence hung heavy in the room, and that was until I could no longer bear it.

"What happened yesterday?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Bryce's face remained expressionless as he ran his fingers through his tousled hair. "I-I, uh, don't know," he said.

He then explained that Miss Alice had found me lying unconscious, suggesting that I may have had an accident inside the orphanage. Though his words failed to fully convince me, I decided to let it go for now. I then asked him why I couldn't remember anything, to which he replied that Miss Alice believed I must have hit my head or something. I simply nodded, and once again, silence enveloped us.

Suddenly, Bryce's piercing gaze met mine, catching me off guard. My heart raced within my chest, its pounding echoing in my ears. A mischievous smirk played on his lips as he assured me that he was glad to see me recovering from my injuries. "I'm just glad to see that you're doing okay, Prim," he said, and with that, he stood up and left the room once again.

As the door clicked shut behind him, I found myself alone with my thoughts. The way Bryce looked at me stirred a feeling inside me that I had never experienced before. It was as if a secret was hidden just beneath the surface, waiting to be discovered. And somehow, I knew that Bryce held the key to unlocking that mystery.

At the same time, this warm sensation of energy then coursed through my veins, dissipating the pain that had once wrapped my body in its unforgiving grip. Slowly, I felt better. I think I am. I mean, I'm grateful for Mamori's touch and the hand she lent me just a few minutes ago. I could walk again, my legs steady and sure beneath me. My arms, once limp and useless, now move with ease.

As I made my way down the hall, the parched feeling in my throat reminded me to drink something. I was just about to descend the stairs when a sliver of light caught my eye. There, down the dimly lit hallway, a door stood slightly ajar. I still have to talk to Miss Alice about something, anyway. And I know this was her room. So, I slowly approached it. Curiosity piqued, and I inched with caution, my heart slowly rising in my chest.

The flickering shadows of two figures danced upon the wall, their silhouettes a riddle waiting to be solved. I drew closer, my breath held captive as I strained to hear a snippet of conversation. A calming, kind voice floated towards me—a voice I recognized. It was Miss Alice.

I inched closer, daring to peek through the crack in the door. Miss Alice was there, but she knelt on the floor, her eyes level with a young boy whose cheeks were stained with tears. She held his hands in hers, offering him a soothing presence that seemed to radiate from her very being.

As I continued to observe, I saw that Miss Alice encased him in a warm hug.

"I know it's difficult, my child, but you're safe here with us. You don't have to be afraid anymore," Miss Alice said.

The boy continued to sniffle as he wiped his tears from his eyes. "But they kicked me out when they found out I'm gay."

"I know, and I'm sorry for that. No one should ever have to go through what you've experienced. But know that you're not alone anymore. You have a family here at the academy who cares about you deeply."

"But what if those men find me again? What if they hurt me? "

Miss Alice placed a comforting hand on Andreus' shoulder as a smile formed on her ruby-red lips. "We won't let that happen, Andreus. We'll do everything in our power to keep you safe. You're a brave young man, and we'll stand by you every step of the way."

"Thank you, Miss Alice."

"You're welcome, dear. And remember, you're not defined by your past. You have a bright future ahead of you, and we'll help you every step of the way," Miss Alice added.

I crouched behind the doorframe, peering into the dimly lit room, my heartbeat racing. I knew I shouldn't be eavesdropping, but curiosity clawed at my insides, urging me to stay. My heart swelled with both empathy and guilt as I listened to their conversation.

"But honestly, I never wanted my family to find out about who I am," the boy hiccupped between sobs, his voice barely a whisper. "But they did. And it angered them. They couldn't even look at me anymore."

I slid my back against the cool stone wall, seeking the comfort of the shadows. The tendrils of shadows were creeping in, casting their hazy veil over the once-vibrant light of the chandelier. I then pressed myself further into the alcove. I wasn't meant to be here at this hour, but curiosity had gotten the better of me.

Miss Alice's melodic voice drifted through the open window, a soothing balm that calmed the turmoil in my thoughts. I had heard her speaking to someone earlier; their voice was unfamiliar but tinged with a vulnerability that had made me pause. I knew I shouldn't eavesdrop, but there I was, trying to piece together the story unfolding before me.

The boy's voice wavered as he spoke, and his words choked with emotion. "I'm gay, and my family doesn't want me anymore."

I remained quiet. However, Miss Alice's response was gentle, her tone full of understanding and warmth. "My dear, there is nothing wrong with who you are. You deserve love and acceptance just as much as anyone else."

The boy sniffled, his voice cracking as he tried to hold back his tears. "But why? Why did they have to turn their backs on me?"

Miss Alice sighed, her words weighted with empathy. "People fear what they don't understand, and sometimes that fear can make them do terrible things. But know this: you are not alone. There are others who share your experiences and will stand by your side."

I could hear the boy's hitched breaths as he grappled with his emotions, and I wished I could reach out to him and offer some small comfort in the face of his despair. But I remained hidden, afraid of the consequences of my intrusion.

Miss Alice continued, her voice unwavering. "I will always be here for you, no matter what. And I will help you find others who will accept you just as you are. You are not broken, my dear boy. You are being you, and there is beauty in that."

I knew her compassion ran deep, but this was a side of her I had never seen before. She was as if a light in the darkness, offering hope where others had sown only despair.

The boy's voice was now hushed, his words barely audible. "Thank you, Miss Alice."

A soft rustle of fabric caused the embrace that followed, and I squeezed my eyes shut. Miss Alice softened as she stroked the boy's hair, her eyes glistening with tears. "Nobody deserves to be treated like that," she said. "Regardless of your gender, race, color, or identity, we are all equal, and no one deserves to be outcast. The color of your blood is red, and so is mine. We are all the same living beings, and there's no harm in being who you are."

I watched as the boy's shoulders shook with each sob, evident in the way he clung to Miss Alice for comfort. It was a scene that tugged at my heartstrings, and I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of compassion for the boy's plight.

As Miss Alice continued to console the boy, I found my thoughts drifting to my own past—the memories of being judged and cast aside by those who were supposed to love and protect me. Back when I was thrown back at the orphanage in Perthlochry for being rebellious, hardheaded, and an outcast. For a moment, I was transported back to those dark days, reliving the anguish and despair I had fought so hard to leave behind.

But I was jolted back to the present by the sight of Miss Alice hugging the boy tighter, her tears now flowing freely. I couldn't help but be moved by her display of vulnerability. There was a strength in her empathy, something in the way she refused to let the boy face his pain alone. And as I continued to watch this scene unfold, I realized that Miss Alice was actually nice.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I quietly stepped away from the door, leaving Miss Alice and the boy to their private moment. As I retreated down the hallway, I knew that I had judged Miss Alice without knowing the truth. Maybe I was being harsh. Maybe I was being conclusive.

Throughout the rest of the day, I couldn't shake the image of Miss Alice and the boy from my mind. Their quiet exchange had left its mark on me. Because in that moment, I learned that true strength wasn't measured by the hardness of one's heart but rather by the depth of their empathy and the willingness to offer a hand to those in need. I could see the impact Miss Alice had on him—the way her kindness acted as a patch for his wounded soul. And in that moment, I felt guilty. I mean, really guilty.

How could I have been so quick to judge Miss Alice? How could I have let my own fears paint her in such a cruel, unkind light? She was not the monster I had made her out to be, but rather a person who was just there to help the gifted beings. But then, I remembered Giusseppi and the fact that Miss Alice hid a lot of things from us. And then doubt slowly consumed me once again.

As I retreated from the doorway, I knew I had much to make amends for. I would need to find a way to think and show that I might have concluded everything. And perhaps, in time, I could learn the truth—to uncover what truly defies the line between humans and gifted beings.

For now, though, I continued down the stairs, my heart lighter and my steps surer. The world around me had changed, and it was time for me to change with it. If Miss Alice was honest in the first place, I wouldn't have doubted her to begin with.