Page 226 of The Silent Note

My heels click against the floor, and it sounds like Zane hitting his drumsticks together before a song.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

I move to that steady rhythm, my heart both heavy and full.

Redwood is still defiant after all the scandals that have passed through these halls, mine being one of them.

It doesn’t apologize for what it covers up, for the evil it swallows.

It never does.

Instead, it only gets more and more haughty.

Pristine lockers sit beneath grand, chapel-like stained glass windows. The light straining through the glass dances. Red, green and blue colors come alive, not knowing all the darkness that lies just beneath the surface.

I make a quick stop in the admin office and then cut a familiar path to the teacher’s lounge where I unfold the cardboard box I brought with me. One by one, I place my text books in the depths.

Othello

Grapes of Wrath

My fingers still when I pick up my copy ofRomeo and Juliet. Lifting the book to my nose, I inhale, recalling that moment when Zane and I debated in class about tragedies versus love stories.

I smile, glad that our story ended with us together, happy, and ready to start a new chapter.

The book goes in the box along with all my other belongings. I cover it all up, ready to balance it against my hip when someone wrenches the box from me.

I whirl around with a gasp. “Zane.”

“Did you really think I’d let you do this alone?”

“You mean after I specifically asked to do this alone?”

He leans down and kisses me softly.

I kiss him back, feeling daring and untouchable all at once. The contents in the box slosh forward as Zane presses me into the desk and kisses me like his life depends on it. The roughness of his caress eases into a soft, gentle kiss.

“Mm.”

Our lips disconnect with a pop that sends goosebumps running over my skin.

Zane peers at me through hooded eyes. “Where’s all this energy coming from? I thought I tired you out this morning.”

Heat sweeps through my chest when I remember where my lips were when I woke Zane up this morning. After he’d agreed to work for the yakuza with me, I’d felt particularly thankful and… giving.

Smiling, I wrap my arms around his neck. “I still need to formally speak to the Vice Principal, but I left my resignation letter on his desk.”

“And?” He arches a perfect, dark brow.

“And that means, technically, I’m no longer a teacher at Redwood.”

“Is it that much of a relief?”

I nuzzle my nose with his. “I may be your step-sister, but I’m no longer your teacher. And yes, that feels really good.”

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