Page 92 of A University of Betrayal

“I think the second one.”

The 3rdDoor

Jay Varton

Julian looked at me as if he wasn’t so sure, and I gave him a questioning look. “What?”

“Well, after the letter thing, I’m not so sure you really know your mother.”

I furrowed my eyebrows in frustration.

Did he have to remind me of reality like that?

“It’s sad that evenyouthink that. I thought I was the only one who shouldn’t trust my mum. I mean, I trust her, but she... you know…”

“…has a lot of secrets,” he finished my sentence, nodding.

There was still concern in his gaze.

“Are you worried?”

“Pardon?” He raised his now arched eyebrow as if he hadn’t understood me.

“You seem worried.”

“Someone just broke into your house. Shouldn’t that be reason enough to worry?”

I gritted my teeth.

Yes, yes... He was right. But he shouldn’t be worried. Not about my family.

“You have enough other problems,” I muttered, but he didn’t change his expression.

“Damn it, Bayla, are you serious?” I realized I was blushing and looked down. “Your problems are a welcome distraction.”

I looked up and caught his familiar grin.

Relief spread through my body. Then I realized what he had said.

“Excuse me?”

Julian sighed. “The last thing I need right now is someone to remind me of all the other drama going on around me.”

I swallowed unnoticeably, and he turned to the window to close it.

I would have loved to see the look on his face. I wondered if he was hurt at the thought of his family and the Copelands still trying to force him into this pack. I wonder what he was thinking about. And what could be bothering him the most?

It occurred to me that he probably had it a lot harder than me and wasn’t complaining as often as I was. Sure, I was in a shitty situation with my mum and the whole Quatura Senseque problem, but I was...free,right? I could just leave. He couldn’t.

As Julian closed the window, a strong breeze swept through the room and a rustling drew my attention to the floor. There was a book lying there. Or rather, the pages of a book held together by a thread, as if it had beentorn outof a book...

I walked across the room, bent down, grabbed the paper and realized that it really had been torn out of a book. Scraps of paper hung from the strings that held the remaining pages together.

“What’s this?” I looked at Julian, who had come closer and was eyeing the paper suspiciously.

“I... don’t know,” I confessed honestly, looking down at the neat handwriting.

“Hello? Is anyone here?”