Chapter 46. Splinters Between Us

Morning didn’t reset anything.

The hallways smelled of heat-lamped sugar and disinfectant, a reminder that Crestwood’s bakery had burned, but its sweetness still lingered. Students walked in strange geometry—tight clusters, nervous gaps. Police cars circled, their flashing lights seeming to hold the gangs at bay.

Riven kept her head down. Her jacket hid the bandages, but not the ache. Every blink replayed the graffiti across the fountain:

HALE’S LEGACY DIES HERE.

Whispers eddied around her like smoke:

“Wasn’t that her dad’s name?”

“Why would they care?”

“Think she knows?”

She told herself she didn’t. The lie stung like solvent.

In biology, Axel was already slouched in his seat. Hood down. Bruise dark as plums along his jaw, tape showing white against black. Their eyes met once—his steady, hers scraped raw—before both looked away.

“You’re late,” he murmured.

“Didn’t know we were clocking shifts,” sh