The hallway slowly returned to normal after Amber walked away.
Conversations resurrected. Lockers slammed. But the tension didn't disappear—it settled. In glances, in whispers, in the way people kept looking between Jade and Blake like they were reading a story without knowing the plot.
Jade still hadn't moved. Her hand rested against her locker, fingers curled loosely around the edge like she needed something to hold onto. Her eyes stayed on Blake. Searching. Trying to understand what had just happened.
Because it didn't make sense. Not after yesterday. Not after everything.
Blake felt her staring. He didn't look back. He already knew what he'd find:
confusion, hurt, and something worse—hope.
"Thanks." Quiet. Careful. Like she wasn't sure permission applied.
His chest tightened. He gave a small nod. "Don't make it a habit."
She frowned faintly. "I wasn't planning on it."
The moment stretched. Too quiet. Too close to something real. Blake turned away first. Because if he didn't—he might say something he couldn't take back.
Across the hallway, Nikki waited. Judging by her face—she had questions. "Well," she said as he approached, arms folded, "that was interesting."
He leaned against the locker beside her. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Blake.."
He exhaled. "What?"
"You just defended the girl you supposedly hate." He didn't answer. "And you didn't insult her once."
He rolled his eyes. "You're reading too much into it."
"Am I?"
She nodded toward Jade. Synthia had joined her, talking quickly. Jade nodded along—but she wasn't listening. She kept glancing back.
Nikki noticed. "For someone who claims he hates her…" Blake shot her a look. She ignored it. "You look pretty protective."
He pushed off the locker. "I'm not protective."
"Sure."
They started walking. After a few steps—
"So," Nikki said casually, "are you going to tell her?"
He stopped. "Tell her what?"
She raised an eyebrow. "That you heard Amber confess everything."
His expression hardened instantly. "No."
"Why not?"
He ran a hand through his hair, tension flickering. "Because if I do…" His voice trailed.
Nikki studied him. "Then you were wrong about her."
Silence. He didn't deny it. He had been wrong. For years. And the weight of that truth was beginning to settle, heavy and immovable.
Nikki's voice softened. "You know she's hurting, right?"
His jaw tightened. He knew. He'd seen it: confusion, pain, and beneath both—a bewilderment that made it worse. She still didn't understand why.
His fingers brushed his jacket pocket. The photograph. Reminder of everything he'd lost—and everything he'd broken with his own hands.
"She deserves to know," Nikki said quietly.
Blake looked down the hallway. Jade had already disappeared around the corner.
"Maybe," he muttered. "But not yet."
Nikki raised an eyebrow. "So what's the plan?"
His eyes darkened. "I'm going to handle Amber."
She blinked. Then grinned. "Oh… now that I want to see."
Blake pushed open the classroom door.
But as he stepped inside, one thought stayed with him:
Amber believed she had control. Believed she'd won. She had no idea how much damage she'd already done—or how thoroughly Blake intended to make her understand.
This time, he wasn't holding back.