Twice, Luna They Left Behind Chapter 06

Twice, Luna They Left Behind Chapter 06

Blackthorn Prep’s academic office.

Dad and Mom sat on the sofa, their faces like stone.

Ms. Green, the academic officer, poured them each a glass of water.

“Alpha, Luna, what’s all this about?”

“Where is Lydia?”

Mom took a deep breath, straining to hold onto some shred of dignity.

“She’s been throwing a fit the past couple of days. Ran away from home. We’re here to take her back.”

Ms. Green froze, the water glass suspended in midair.

“Throwing a fit? Take her back?”

She looked from Dad to Mom, a look of sheer incredulous absurdity in her eyes.

“Lydia completed her withdrawal paperwork last week.”

“What?!”

Dad shot to his feet, knocking over the paper cup. Water spilled across the table.

“Transferred? Who signed off on that? She barely turned eighteen—how the hell does she transfer schools without telling us?”

“Alpha, please calm down.”

—

Ms. Green grabbed some tissues to mop up the water.

“Lydia is eighteen. She used her own ID and the fire special-circumstances documentation from the Blackthorn community. She went through the independent transfer process.”

“Her student record has already been transferred.”

“Transferred where?”

Mom’s voice had started to tremble.

“I’m sorry. That’s confidential. She made it clear she didn’t want her information shared with anyone.”

Ms. Green looked at these two highly educated parents and sighed.

“You two, Lydia is a remarkable student. But the day she withdrew, her right hand was still wrapped in bandages. She couldn’t even hold a pen steady—she had to use her left thumbprint.”

“She said when she left that there was no one at home left who could sign for her.”

The air in the academic office seemed to solidify.

Dad and Mom walked out of the school in a daze.

When they got home, Leo was sprawled on the couch, gaming with the TV on. He didn’t even look up.

“Dad, Mom, I’m hungry. Is Lydia not back yet to cook?”

“Lydia is gone,” Mom said, her voice hoarse.

“Gone? Then let her be gone.”

—

Leo smashed the controller buttons, a burst of fire erupting on screen.

“She’s just playing hard to get. Wants more allowance. Don’t bite. In a few days when she’s broke, she’ll crawl right back.”

“Honestly, if she’s gone, good. More for me. All of it.”

“Her lame trophies should’ve been trashed forever ago. They’re just taking up my shelf.”

The casual, vicious certainty in his voice cut through Mom like a blade.

For the first time, she didn’t reach out to stroke her son’s head for saying something like that.

She just looked at Leo.

At his face, twisted with excitement over the game.

And a memory slammed into her from the night of the fire.

That night, Leo was never actually trapped in the flames.

He got scared on his own and ran to hide in the second-floor storage closet, too terrified to make a sound.

I was the one who charged up to the second floor to find him—and got my hand crushed by a falling beam.

And when the firefighters charged in, Leo sobbed and grabbed Dad’s leg.

“Daddy, save me! Lydia shoved me behind her and tried to run first!”

—

Because of those words, they scooped him up without a second thought.

They even ran back inside to grab his stupid Math Olympiad trophy.

And left me in the fire.

“Leo.”

Mom’s voice wavered.

“That night—how exactly did you end up on the first floor?”

Leo’s hands froze on the controller.