Page 57 of The Forbidden Note

It takes me a second to realize he’s referring to Cadence’s mom.

“Uh, no.” I face the gravesite again.

Dutch has his arm looped around both Cadence and Viola now. The younger sister is leaning heavily into his side and shuffling as if it hurts to walk. Zane, Finn, Sol, Serena and the blonde girl trail behind in a grim procession.

“She was the mother of one of my students, so I figured I should pay my respects.”

He glances around. “No other teacher attended?”

“No.” Redwood Prep doesn’t have a track record of caring about scholarship students. I’m not surprised that I’m the only member of faculty that turned up.

Jarod surprises me by speaking again. His tone is carefully conversational.

Weird.

He’s never seemed like the friendly, chatty type.

“I’ve only been teaching at Redwood for a few weeks now, but it’s a hard job. I don’t think teachers get the credit they deserve these days.”

My lips curl up in a sad smile. “The kids have it hard too.”

“How so?”

“Kids these days have to grow up too fast. Their world is supposed to be safe, but it always falls apart before they’re ready.”

“The world does that often, doesn’t it?”

“What?” I glance at him.

“Fall apart.” He cocks a brow at me. “It’s a never-ending cycle of shattering and coming back together. Over and over again. Until you learn whatever lesson you’re supposed to learn or achieve whatever you’re supposed to achieve.”

“Like a fairytale,” I muse, my eyes sliding to Zane without any conscious thought. “The more you run, the bigger the dragon becomes.”

“Kids at Redwood would say you’re the dragon.”

“Do they?”

“Talk in the teacher’s lounge is that you’re hard on them.”

“I heard you’re the same.”

He shrugs. “Metal can only be bent when it’s beaten.”

“We’re long past the days when you could beat kids in classrooms, Mr. Cross.”

He chuckles.

I smile.

“I heard you don’t engage in school politics either,” he says.

“I’m trying to be the administration’s dragon. Wait until I start breathing fire.” I’m only half-joking.

But he laughs. It’s a rough, chalky sound.

“I should go.” He checks his watch. “I’ve taken a hiatus from my classes at Redwood to prepare for a tour. It’s sad that I won’t be able to see you in the hallway for the time being, Miss Jamieson. But at least I can see you for dinner.”

My smile is brittle. Those words are meaningless. I can count on one hand the times he’s been home to eat with mom.