CHAPTER 112: I DON’T WANT TO GET INVOLVED

"Come in," a voice called from inside.

I pushed the door open, and almost collided with a student carrying a heavy stack of papers high enough to hide most of their face.

They muttered a quick "sorry" before slipping past me into the hallway.

"Good morning, Mr. Blake," I said, stepping further inside.

He looked up, squinting at me like my face was somewhere in the back of his mind. "Nice to meet you... hmmm... Ash?"

"Ash Rivera, sir," I clarified, closing the door quietly behind me.

"Right. Ash Rivera." His voice softened. "How’s your sister doing? Give her my regards."

"She’s okay. Thanks... for the other day." I glanced around the room. It was a small office. Just his desk, a filing cabinet, a pile of folders on the side table, and a coffee mug with a chipped rim. It felt too quiet.

"Oh, it’s nothing," he waved it off. "You don’t have to come all the way here just to thank me again."

"Actually, sir..." I hesitated, shifting from one foot to the other. "I came here to ask you something else. It’s about the tattoo, sir."

He let out a low chuckle and leaned back. "What’s with kids these days? Always curious."

I felt my jaw tighten. "It’s not curiosity when it’s connected to my life. And my family’s."

His eyebrows lifted slightly at that, but he didn’t say anything, so I kept going.

"I don’t know if I should be saying this, but... I’ve been getting threatening messages from someone. Anonymous. And I think it’s all connected to the fact that I witnessed an attempted murder. I’m scared. I just.." I swallowed. "I don’t know who else to ask."

Mr. Blake’s eyes flicked to the window. "Have you told the police about it?"

I shook my head slightly.

"Not everything," I admitted.

"If you’re involved with that group, they’re dangerous," he said flatly. "Tell the cops not me. There’s nothing I can do to help."

That stung. "That’s not true," I said quickly. "You have the same tattoo. You were there when my sister almost got kidnapped. You do know something, and you’re not telling me. Please.."

His gaze met mine, and for a second I thought he might actually admit it. Instead, he shook his head slowly. "Ash, there’s nothing I can do. Idon’t want to get involved. Please...leave."

I stood there, staring at him. Doesn’t want to get involved? Involved in what? The same gang he has their tattoo on his right arm?

Finally, I nodded. "Ohhh, okay, sir."

I turned to the door, but my hand paused on the knob. I turned back. "My mom just had surgery. I... I’m scared of losing the people I love."

There was a silence. Then, he sighed.

"Listen."

I looked back.

He picked up a pen, scribbling something on a scrap of paper. "This is my address and phone number." He slid it toward me. "Come see me after class. I might be able to help... but not officially. I still don’t want to get involved."

I took the paper. "Thank you, sir."

His smile was faint. "Now go on."

I stepped into the hall, staring at the paper in my palm.

Why the sudden change of heart? Why say no, then yes? And if he really wanted to help... why does it feel like he’s hiding something?

I stood in front of Mr. Blake’s door for a moment, as my thumb brushed over the ink of his address.

My head was still spinning from his sudden change in tone, the way he’d said he doesn’t want to get involved, like helping me was some kind of crime.

A soft click of heels echoed down the hall. I looked up.

Mrs. Gerald...the new school therapist, was walking toward me, her neat bun barely moving with each step. Her smile was perfectly in place, like it had been rehearsed.

That was what I didn’t find interesting. Her smile looked so fake.

"Ash Rivera," she said warmly, like she’d been expecting to see me. "When will you be ready to start your sessions?"

I swallowed. "Uh... I’m not sure yet."

"Well," she tilted her head, "the sooner we start, the sooner I can help you. I think you’ll find me very good at... listening."

Something about the way she said "listening" made my stomach tighten.

She gave me a polite nod, smiled and then, without even knocking properly...just a light tap with her knuckle, she pushed open Mr. Blake’s door and stepped inside.

I froze.

Through the small gap before it closed, I caught a glimpse of Mr. Blake looking up at her... not surprised. Not like she was interrupting. More like they already knew each other.

The door clicked shut.

Why would the school therapist be visiting him? And why did it feel... coordinated?

I couldn’t place it, but something about her always rubbed me the wrong way. And now she was in there with Mr. Blake.

Well, it’s none of my business. I have other things to worry about.

I walked faster down the hall, but my head wouldn’t quiet down.

Guilt crept in, I glanced down at the address in my hand. His phone number. A breadcrumb trail into something I wasn’t even sure I should be walking into.

And I was doing it alone.

What if Dominic finds out I started digging into this without him?

It felt wrong.

It wasn’t like I didn’t trust him....he’s literally the one person I do trust, but something about that phone call yesterday... the warning to exposesomething... it felt too dangerous to drag him into without knowing the truth.

Still... it felt wrong. Like hiding a wound under my sleeve so he wouldn’t see the blood.

This is how secrets start, I thought. One little thing you don’t tell them... then another... then another.

What if he took it the wrong way? Thought I didn’t trust him? What if he saw this as me shutting him out?

He’d been there through everything....the blackmail, the attempt kidnap, the nights when I couldn’t sleep.

And I was about to chase something dangerous without him, something that could blow up in my face... in our faces.

I shoved the paper into my pocket, trying to convince myself it was temporary.

I’d tell him....eventually.

When I knew exactly what I was telling him.

I told myself I was protecting him. That I didn’t want him in danger until I knew exactly what I was walking into.

But it didn’t feel like protection. It felt like betrayal.

I just hoped... if this ever came out, it wouldn’t already be too late, and ruin what we had.