Page 28

TWENTY-SEVEN

FREYA

Walking out of the classroom, my cheeks were burning with the embarrassment from earlier. Excitement shot down my spine, the reckless one that came with the risk of getting caught. I bit back a smile as I walked toward the bathroom, but that strange little voice was telling me something was wrong.

Four girls sat against the stone wall of the square, whispering sharply, giggling to each other through the murmur of students passing by. Their eyes followed me, watching me, laughing at me.

That awful, stinging feeling of being watched spread across my skin. I pushed through the bathroom door, exhaling sharply. Turning to the mirror, I studied my reflection. Was there something wrong? Was there ink on my face? A stain? But there was nothing, just plain old me. Nothing was wrong.

Except their laughter still echoed in my ears.

I leaned against the cold marble sink, taking a deep breath, trying to compose myself. My fingers fiddled with my hair, an attempt to fix something that didn’t need to be fixed.

Exhale. Collect yourself.

The door burst open. The same four girls walked in, their heels clicking on the tiled floor. At first, they pretended I didn’t exist, washing their hands, exchanging looks. Then, one of them stepped closer.

“I saw you talking to Theo last night,” she said. You could hear the anger in her voice building.

The uniform she wore had the colors of the Serpents house. A proof she’d been at the party, too. But Theo? I hadn’t even given him a second thought.

“Yeah,” another sneered. “He’s been telling everyone what a good fuck you were.”

My stomach twisted in knots.

“Did you know he has a girlfriend?” the first one continued, raising a brow before pressing a manicured finger against her chest. “Me.”

“I didn’t sleep with him,” I said, my voice firm. I pushed past them, heading for the door, but the words followed me.

“But you did,” she hissed. “You’re such a slut. And you’ll pay for it.”

“Excuse me?” I turned, a cold pulse of anger thrumming beneath my skin.

She silently nodded to the girls, and suddenly, two of them grabbed my arms, yanking me back. My breath hitched.

“What the fuck?!” I thrashed, but their grip was iron-tight. One of them blocked the door while the others laughed, mocking, entertained. I yanked at their grip, but they held me against the wall, my arms pinned, helpless.

The first girl stepped closer, grinning as she pulled a knife from her pocket. The blade glinted under the bathroom light. She ran her tongue along its edge, eyes turning dark with twisted amusement.

“You’ll remember not to spread your legs for taken men ever again.”

I struggled harder, but she grabbed my shirt, tearing it as she pressed the cold steel against my stomach. The first cut burned, sharp, before I screamed. The letter ‘S’ was carved into my skin. I kicked, my foot slamming into her gut, but it only made her angrier.

She came back, pressing the knife harder. An ‘L.’ Then a ‘U.’ I gasped, pain shooting through me. Desperate, I bucked against their hold, but they were stronger. ‘T.’

She stepped back, admiring her work. Blood trickled down my stomach as she licked the blade clean, smirking.

Then they let go.

My legs gave out, and I crumpled to the floor. But they weren’t done. The kicks came next—boots slamming into my ribs, over and over. I curled into myself, coughing, choking, trying to shield my body from the constant hits that broke my bones inside.

One of them yanked my skirt up.

“She’s not even wearing underwear,” she jeered. A camera clicked. A slap stung across my exposed skin, their voices shrieking in unison.

“SLUT. SLUT. SLUT.”

I barely heard them. Barely felt anything anymore.

If I had ever doubted before, now I was sure—I wanted to disappear. To stop existing. I hated myself. Hated how weak I was. How pathetic. I let them humiliate me, let them walk out laughing, slamming the door behind them.

Fight, Freya. Bitch, get the fuck up.

But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to.

There wasn’t an atom of strength left in me. I curled into myself on the cold bathroom floor, letting the blood slip down my skin, pooling on the tiles. I did nothing. Just lay there. Empty.

I hated how people turned a blind eye to their cruelty but judged mine.

That girl believed the boy’s lies because it was easier than accepting the truth. He spun his story to absolve himself, and she clung to it, justifying the violence she inflicted on me.

I used to believe there was good in people. Now, all I saw was trash.

If people truly looked at one another, if they saw the truth, maybe they wouldn’t be so quick to hurt. But I guess that’s what evil is. And evil exists in everyone.

Footsteps echoed outside. A scream followed. I barely reacted, closing my eyes as chaos stirred around me. Someone rushed in, kneeling beside me, her voice soft, urgent.

“I’ll get help.”

She tried to lift me, but I was dead weight. Helpless. I heard her footsteps fade as she left to find someone.

I forced myself to move, my hands pressing against the cold floor. A sharp sting shot through me as I tried to rise. My fingers slipped in my blood, and I collapsed again.

Tears welled in my eyes, not just from the pain but from the helplessness of it all. How had I let this happen? Why hadn’t I fought harder? I hated myself for it. For being weak.

A girl returned with Professor Cassius Blackthorn.

His gaze met mine, and for a moment, he stood frozen, palm covering his mouth. Then, jaw clenched, he rushed toward me, hands steady as he tried to lift me. But my legs betrayed me.

As I finally stood, his eyes moved to the letters carved into my stomach.

SLUT.

His expression darkened. Without a word, he slipped off his blazer, wrapping it around me, shielding me.

I leaned into him, silent tears slipping down my cheeks. He didn’t speak as he moved through the hallways, past the square, and into his office.

The door clicked shut behind us, and he rushed me to a chair in front of his desk.

I looked around. His office felt similar to Lucius’s, except for the massive glass tank lining the walls. Inside, a python slithered over twisted branches, its scales glinting in the light. It hissed, pressing against the glass, watching.

A chill crawled up my spine. I wasn’t supposed to be here.

I swallowed hard as he turned back to me, slipping the blazer off my shoulders. He took the first aid kit from a shelf, then pressed a white cloth against my stomach.

“How did this happen?” His British accent was thicker than Lucius’s.

“Some girls.” I swallowed. “I—I don’t know.”

“Do you know their names?” He sprayed disinfectant over the wound. The sting was instant.

I bit my lip, shaking my head. My eyes moved up to the ceiling, anywhere but the snake that was now fixated on us.

“T is deeper than the others,” he murmured, reaching for a needle. “I’ll have to stitch it.”

A tear slipped down my cheek as he pierced my skin, sewing me back together. I gritted my teeth, gripping the chair as sharp pain seared through me.

“I’ll give you a balm,” he said as he discarded his gloves. “But that T—it’ll leave a scar.”

I nodded numbly, fumbling with my shirt. The buttons were useless, and the shirt was completely torn. I pulled his blazer tighter around me, my fingers trembling. I let the tears fall freely now. There was no point in stopping them.

“Tell me more about the incident,” he said, flipping open a file. A pen poised over the paper. He already knew my name.

“I…” My voice broke. “Four girls came into the bathroom.” I sniffed. “They called me names… then it all happened so fast. I—I don’t know their names.”

He folded his arms, his expression unreadable. “When I was your age, things like this happened all the time,” he said. “Worse, even. But you have to speak up if you want to protect yourself.”

I swallowed hard.

His jaw tensed. “Now, tell me who did this to you.”

I looked at him—his blue eyes, dirty blonde hair. He seemed honest, but my stomach twisted.

Because once I leave this office, I will have to go outside, face the school and endure the stares of those who knew what was done to me.

And yet, I had nothing to say to him.

“Okay,” he said, shaking his head, giving up on an answer I couldn’t provide.

I turned away, trying to focus on anything but the snake still hissing in its enclosure.

“Viper doesn’t bite,” he said, watching me.

“Oh.” I forced an awkward smile.

“He swallows,” he added with a smirk.

A strange feeling prickled at the back of my neck. My pulse quickened. I looked around, searching for something to focus on. And when I saw a music box placed on a shelf among old books. my breath hitched, my chest tightened.

“Where did you get that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He followed my gaze, stepping toward the shelf and picking up the delicate wooden box. “A friend gave it to me,” he said, tilting it in his hands.

Music filled the room.

The same melody. The same haunting lullaby from Adeline’s music box.

The walls seemed to press in, the air suddenly too thin. The blade from earlier felt as though it was still there, slicing through my skin. But I didn’t flinch.

“Who was your friend?” I asked, my breathing uneven, my chest rising and falling too fast.

“Luna,” he said with a small smile. “You probably know her from—“

“Does it open?” I interrupted, suddenly lurching forward. My legs gave out, and I collapsed back into the chair.

He studied the box, then twisted the tiny ballerina. The lid popped open.

A letter.

“Is it signed with an L?” My voice was barely steady.

He chuckled, unfolding the paper. “Yeah. She used to sign all her notes like this.”

Fuck.

L was Luna. Luna and Adeline had been… together. And all this time, she had been right in front of us. My mind reeled. Had my grandmother forbidden their love? Was their relationship doomed the same way mine and Lucius’s was?

Not that it mattered now. Not when I couldn’t even think about happiness. Maybe I wasn’t meant for it. Maybe people like me were meant to be invisible. To live in the shadows, unseen and unheard.

I just wanted to disappear.

I didn’t belong anywhere. Not here. Not even in my skin.

“Is there anyone I should call to take you to the dorm?” he asked, clearing his throat. Something in that letter had struck a chord in him.

He wanted to be alone.

So did I.

And I couldn’t say Lucius. Even if I did, I wouldn’t let him touch me. Not now. Not while these awful words were still carved into my skin.

SLUT.

I shook my head, meeting his gaze.

He sighed, slipping the letter into his drawer before moving closer. “Got you,” he murmured, taking my hand and pulling me up.

I clutched the blazer tightly to my chest as if letting go of it would physically hurt me. As we walked, the halls were empty—everyone was already in class. But I still felt exposed, raw. I wanted to lock myself away and let no one near me. Not until the wounds healed.

I just needed sleep. Maybe then, for a while, I could forget.