I woke up to the sound of church bells ringing in the distance. It was a sound I had always found comforting, but now it felt distant and foreign. My mind was a whirlwind of questions, the invasion of my room still fresh in my memory. The fear that someone was always watching, listening. Did they know about me? A heavy pit settled in my stomach at the thought.
I rifled through my memories, trying to remember if I had left any hints in public. Anything that could have given away my abnormality. But there was nothing. The only thing that came to mind was my recent meltdown at the quarry. But no, I told myself, that was just my paranoia talking. I had been careful, made sure there had been no witnesses. Still, the nagging doubt persisted and I knew I had to be more vigilant than ever.
I had to find out who was behind this. But how? I didn't have any leads, any clues to go on. The only thing I had was the memory of the man's voice on the phone. Could he be somehow related to the intrusion? It was a long shot, but maybe I could track him down.
I rubbed my eyes and sat up, feeling the exhaustion from the chaos of the previous night still lingering in my bones. I made a conscious effort to banish the memory from my thoughts. My room felt claustrophobic, and I longed to be out in the open air.
The smell of coffee filled my senses as I made my way downstairs. My mother was already up, the soft shuffle of her footsteps accompanied by a noticeable limp. She looked at me with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, I could see the flicker of worry behind them.
"Good morning," she greeted me, holding out a mug. "How are you feeling, honey?" she asked. A slight grimace crossed her face as she shifted her weight to ease the persistent ache in her abdomen. My heart ached at the sight, knowing that her pain was a constant companion that she tried to hide from me. She lowered her hand to gingerly rest it on her side, as if to hold her ribcage together.
I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should tell her about the break-in. But I couldn't bear to worry her even more. I nodded, grateful for the warm beverage. "I'm fine," I lied, trying to keep my voice steady.
The sound of the toilet flushing echoed through the hallway, and my heart skipped a beat. The mere thought of facing Jake made my skin crawl. I knew better than to stick around.
The sun had barely risen, casting a golden glow over the campus grounds as I made my way towards the auditorium for my morning lecture. The ivy-covered brick buildings towered over me, exuding an air of prestige and exclusivity. Inside, the walls were adorned with portraits of past alumni, each one looking down upon us with a mixture of pride and expectation.
In the sea of half-awake faces, I spotted Helena, who was seated a few rows away. Our eyes briefly met, and her lips curled into a small smile in response to my wave.
Professor Harrison stormed into the classroom, a stern look on her face, her staccato heels echoing on the marble floor. With a sharp nod, she began her lecture on the forensic analysis of crime scenes.
As she spoke, my mind buzzed at the prospect of uncovering clues that could lead to the identity of my intruder. I made a mental list of all the possible evidence that could have been left behind at the scene of the crime: fingerprints on the windowpane, DNA samples from skin cells or hair follicles, footprints. I was determined to sift through every shred of proof from the break-in, to uncover even the tiniest hint that could lead me to the perpetrator.
I didn't have access to the CSI-grade equipment that professors had at their disposal. No fancy microscopes or high-tech forensic tools. But perhaps my unusual set of skills could actually be useful for once. My ability to pick up the most minute details might just be the key to solving this case.
When the lecture ended, I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed towards the door. I caught sight of Helena standing by her desk, gathering her own things. She looked up and our eyes locked. Her familiar face was like a balm for my anxious thoughts.
"Hey," she greeted, her fingers deftly organizing her belongings. "Saw you in class. How was the lecture?"
My eyes flickered to the cut on her face. It was still as raw as the day before. A surge of protectiveness welled up within me, but I swallowed it down. "Informative," I replied, trying to keep it cool. "It's amazing what you can learn about a person from the smallest details."
Helena's fingers toyed idly with the edges of her criminology textbook. "Clark, this might seem out of the blue, but my family is throwing a gala at our manor this weekend," she said, subtly biting her lower lip. "And I was thinking, how about you join me as my plus one?"
My pulse quickened at the unexpected invite. I shifted nervously on my feet, my thoughts racing. The gala sounded like something out of a fairy tale, something that happened to people who lived in a world far removed from mine. My family could barely afford new clothes, let alone fancy ones for a formal event. "I...I don't have anything appropriate to wear," I confessed, my cheeks warming with embarrassment.
Helena placed a reassuring hand on my biceps. "Don't worry, Clark. I'll help you pick something out," she said, still beaming at me." Her hand sent warmth through my veins. Her smile was infectious, and I found myself returning it despite my nerves.
I let out a breath and nodded. "Alright," I said, feeling the tension loosen its grip. "I'll go with you."
Helena's grin widened, and her hand squeezed my arm just a smidge. "Great!" she said. "It'll be fun, I promise."
The cafeteria was filled with a buzz of activity as students bustled about, chattering and laughing over their meals. The high ceilings of the grand hall amplified the sound, making it seem almost cacophonous. Waitstaff in crisp black and white uniforms gracefully maneuvered their way through the throngs of people.
A group of well-dressed young women sat at a table, nibbling on salads while chatting and giggling amongst themselves. Their designer handbags rested on the back of their chairs, each one seemingly more expensive than the last.
I heard the snide voice of Tyler Kingsley before I saw him.
"Well well well, if it isn't the charity case and his little girlfriend," he taunted, eyeing us both with disdain. "I'm surprised you can even afford to buy food." I glanced over at Helena, who stood tall and defiant, her eyes locked onto Tyler's.
"Leave us alone, Tyler. We're not interested in your little power trip," she shot back, rolling her eyes.
His gaze flicked over to Helena, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Ooh, aren't you a feisty one?" Tyler's combed back hair caught the light as he sneered at us. "They are the most fun to play with," he added, his lips curling into a ferocious smirk.
My grip tightened on my metal tray and I felt small dents forming under my fingers. I shifted slightly in front of Helena, silently willing Tyler to back off. I had no desire to see her dragged into this mess. I had to resist the urge to throw him through the nearest wall. The world around me faded into a blur as I grappled with my primal instincts. Keep it together. I couldn't let Tyler drag me into a brawl or worse.
Tyler's eyes flicked back to me, his smirk widening as he took in my defensive stance. "Oh, look at the hero," he jeered. "Protecting his little girlfriend. You gonna fight me, Narrows Boy?"
My jaw tightened at the nickname, the knot of anger twisting tighter in my stomach. All I could think of was wiping the smug grin off his face. The power within me surged, itching for an outlet. But I wasn't taking the bait. I stood my ground, my eyes locked with his.
Helena's hand brushed against mine, a silent show of solidarity. Before I could say anything, she spoke up. "Well, it's been lovely chatting with you, Tyler," she said through gritted teeth. "But I think we'll go find some more pleasant company."
As we turned to walk away, my heightened senses picked up a subtle flicker of movement. There was a flash of silver and a moment later, I heard a cry of pain. Tyler was clutching at his thigh, a fork sticking out, his eyes wide with surprise and anger. He stumbled back, yanking out the metallic object that had impaled him. Tyler's friends began to cluster around him, their confused expressions mirroring my own.
For a moment, I just stood there, staring at Helena in disbelief. Did she…? I hadn't fully processed what just happened when she grabbed my arm. "Let's find somewhere else to eat." she said, pulling me out of the lunch room.
The adrenaline was still pumping through my veins as we left the bustling hall, the sounds of clinking silverware and hushed conversations fading behind us.
My thoughts were a jumbled mess.I struggled to process what I had just witnessed. Could that really have been Helena? The idea she could have been able to move so quickly and expertly with the utensil made me wonder. It was like she had done it a hundred times before.
As impressed as I was, the reality of the situation quickly set in. Tyler was not one to take a hit lying down, and I knew he would come looking for revenge. The prospect of him linking Helena to the fork incident set my nerves on edge.
Tyler's relentless teasing had always been an annoyance, but the thought of Helena becoming a target sent chills down my spine. I couldn't let him hurt her.
"He's not going to let this go, you know." I muttered, my voice low with concern.
I made a silent promise that I would do whatever it took to keep Helena safe.