CHAPTER 66: BEHIND THE GLASS

Charis

I finally locked the door of the classroom, my fingers trembling slightly from exhaustion.

I hid another yawn behind my hand, feeling like I’d been in Ravenshore forever instead of nearly a month.

It was already past 4 p.m., almost one hour more than the usual closing time. I had to wait for Phil and his minions, who were purposely wasting my time by taking forever to finish up with their classwork.

After that, they made a show of organising their desks, throwing paper balls at one another and laughing like idiots. I had no choice but to wait until they finally slinked out with smug grins and mocking waves.

Clearly, they found my new Class Alpha title entertaining.

The moment the door clicked shut, I slumped against it, drawing in a deep breath. My legs ached. My brain felt fried. All I wanted to do was lie down and sleep. I was also feeling a little sluggish, and I knew it was a tell-tale sign that I would be getting my heat soon.

There was still recreational activity tonight, but thank the Moon Goddess, it was optional. I wasn’t going.

As I walked across the school compound towards the residential area, I redialed Rhett’s number, hoping he would finally pick up so I could ask for directions to his quarters. This had to be the fourth or fifth time I was calling.

But if he didn’t respond, I could call Slater or Kael. A fond smile settled on my lips as I thought of Kael. I waited all day for the supposed meeting with the Student Council, but that was cancelled.

I chewed on my lower lip as I redialed the number, but it rang without anyone answering it. Just when I was about to give up, someone took the call.

"Hello?" A female voice answered.

"Oh, um...sorry. I’m looking for Rhett. This is Eamon—Eamon Riggs. I’m calling on school orders. I have some study materials from our form mistress and I was told to deliver them to him.

"Ah, you’re a classmate," the woman said. "He’s...resting right now, but I can give you directions if you need to bring something important."

The woman texted the details, and I had to take the campus bus to get there. Some minutes later, I was standing in front of Rhett’s quarters with my mouth open wide in shock.

’Luxury’ was too modest a word.

The building stood alone, an elegant two-story structure with pristine ivory walls, arched windows, and gold-lined corners, featuring an intricately carved symbol that bore a suspicious resemblance to a family crest.

The yard alone looked like it had its own gardener, with neatly trimmed hedges and stone statues guarding the gate.

It looked more like a private residence than a student housing facility.

So this is what it means to be a Thatcher.

I walked up the stairs and rang the doorbell, straightening my shirt and trying not to appear impressed, which I was very much.

Finally, a middle-aged woman dressed in a crisp white apron over a simple grey dress opened the door. She had short, greying hair and eyes that looked both tired and kind.

"You must be Eamon," she said brightly, gesturing for me to come in. "My name is Sarah, and I’m Rhett’s housekeeper."

The interior was just as impressive as the exterior. The foyer was immaculate, with a marble floor that reflected the warm light of the chandelier above. A soft scent of citrus and sandalwood floated in the air. The hallway stretched long, lined with portraits of men who all bore a resemblance to Rhett.

The red hair was, after all, a family gene.

The hallway led to a spacious living area with expensive furniture and more abstract artwork on the walls. Everything was clean and organised like a luxury hotel rather than a student’s living space.

Sarah turned to me and asked with a kind smile on her face. "Can I offer you anything? Water? Tea?"

"Nothing, ma’am," I declined politely. I wasn’t going to stay that long.

"Okay. Then you can give me the study materials. I’ll pass them along to Alpha Rhett."

I’d been worried about not seeing Rhett all day, plus his not answering his phone only increased my anxiety.

"Actually," I said quickly. "Our form mistress—Janet—told me to explain what we learnt in school today to Rhett. Said it was important for him not to fall behind," I lied.

She eyed me skeptically. "He’s not in a state to learn anything today."

I swallowed. "Then I just want to see him. Please. He’s my friend."

For a long moment, Sarah didn’t speak. Then she sighed and nodded.

"Fine. Follow me. There are protocols you must follow."

We walked past several closed doors until we reached a room that appeared to be a decontamination room. The woman guided me into a small space.

"Put these on," Sarah instructed, handing me protective coveralls and slippers. She then sprayed something that smelled strongly of disinfectant on the coveralls before wearing her own protective gear.

"Don’t touch him," Sarah warned, "and don’t panic either."

My heart thudded in my chest as we went through a small door at the corner of the decontamination room. The door opened into another room that resembled a hospital room.

My heart broke at the sight that greeted me. Rhett lay on a wide bed covered with blue sheets, shirtless, with various tubes and wires connected to his chest and arms. A thin oxygen tube curled beneath his nose. Monitors beeped softly in the background, displaying readings that I couldn’t interpret.

He looked pale. Almost white.

What happened to him?" I heard myself ask.

"He had a small crisis this morning, an infection precisely, but he’ll be fine in a few hours. He just needs rest and medication."

I didn’t say anything, I had no idea what to say.

Pain pooled at my chest as I ambled towards him. It felt like it was me on the bed and not him. I couldn’t explain the feeling.

I wanted to reach for his hand, but remembered Sarah’s warning.

Instead, I whispered. "I missed you today, Rhett. But I’m glad you’ll be fine. Get well soon."

He didn’t move. But his chest rose and fell, and his heartbeat blipped steadily on the screen. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them back.

Just as I turned to go back to where Sarah stood, I heard a soft voice calling out to me.

"Charis?"