By the time Evelyn reached the dormitory, a small crowd had gathered outside. Whispers buzzed like flies, feeding on the chaos. She shoved through them, ignoring the stares, the murmurs—until the guards let her through.
Her room was no longer her own.
The mattress had been sliced open, feathers scattered like snow. Her books were torn apart—pages ripped, soaked, crumpled. Even the wooden box under the floorboard lay open, the secret compartment exposed.
The ribbon was gone.
Evelyn stood frozen at the threshold. Behind her, Alexander stepped inside without hesitation, his eyes scanning the room like a hunter reading tracks. He didn't ask questions. He didn't speak.
Instead, he crouched by the floorboard and examined the empty box.
"They knew exactly where to look," he said grimly. "This wasn't random."
"No one knew about that hiding place." Evelyn's voice was cold, edged with disbelief. "Not even you."
He straightened and looked at her, his expression unreadable. "Then someone's watching you very closely."
A knot tightened in her chest. "This is about more than just Isabella, isn't it?"
Alexander didn't answer. Not directly.
Instead, he walked to the shattered desk and picked up one of her books—a ruined collection of magical theory. Slashed through the center.
"They're not just trying to intimidate you anymore. They want you exposed, helpless."
"But why?"
He met her gaze again. "You're a threat. To someone."
Evelyn's pulse throbbed in her ears. The thought didn't scare her—it ignited something.
"I won't run," she said softly.
"I never said you should," he replied. His voice was quiet but steady. "But next time, don't keep secrets from me."
She opened her mouth, then closed it. She wasn't used to anyone saying that—not to run, not to trust them. Especially not him.
A loud knock at the doorway startled them both. A guard cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Miss Hawthorne, you'll be moved to a secure wing until the investigation is complete."
Alexander stepped forward before she could reply. "I'll handle her relocation personally."
The guard blinked, startled. "Sir, we—"
"That won't be necessary," Alexander cut in, tone cold and final.
Evelyn looked at him.
"Are you always this overbearing?" she asked.
He didn't smile. "Only when I care whether someone survives the night."