After Sheri led the girls away, the three of them finally stopped outside their classroom. Their hearts were still pounding, but at least they were safe—for now. Thankfully, Kira and her gang weren't in any of their classes, which ant they could avoid them for most of the day.
"Crap... crap a duck," Cindy muttered, hands on her knees. "What is with those girls? I thought the bullying stopped after Dipter got sent to juvie with the others. Guess that wasn't enough of a wake-up call."
"The bullying didn't stop," Sheri said with a quiet laugh. "That was just the obvious kind—the in-your-face stuff. And it was mostly the guys."
She leaned back against the wall, arms crossed.
"Maybe you haven't dealt with it before, but girl bullying? It's worse. Social dia, silent treatnt, getting iced out of friend circles… it's more hidden. And it sticks. Girls don't let go of grudges. Not really."
Sheri looked directly at Abby.
"You should be careful. That girl—Kira? She's not going to forget what you did."
Cindy suddenly grabbed Abby's hands, her face lit up with pride.
"Still! Abby, I can't believe you slapped her. I seriously didn't think you had it in you!"
Abby blinked, her expression still a little stunned. "I… I don't know what ca over . I was just… angry. I didn't want everything to go back to how it used to be. Not with how Max was."
As the two kept talking, they noticed Sheri quietly slipping away down the hall, not saying a word.
"Wait... who was she?" Cindy asked, watching her disappear around the corner. "Why'd she help us?"
"I've seen her with Max a few tis," Abby said, still catching her breath. "But honestly… I'm not sure. I guess they know each other."
"Whoever she was, she helped us," Cindy said, arms folded. "And I think we should take her warning seriously. Let's just avoid Kira and her gang as much as possible. Or, if you want, we could talk to Max. I'm sure he could scare her off. One look from him and she'd back down for good."
Abby imdiately shook her head.
"No," she said firmly. "I don't want to bother Max. We can't just run to him every ti sothing goes wrong. Not when we're just starting to fix things between us. He's already got so much on his plate… and whatever he's dealing with now, it's not over yet."
✦✦✦
After school, Max didn't head to the gym.
He wouldn't bla the other students if they didn't either, not after what happened. Still, he noticed a few walking in that direction. Maybe they didn't know where else to go. Maybe, after what went down, they were more fired up than ever to train.
I still haven't told Steven the news, Max thought, walking along a side street behind the school. But I won't—not until I get to the bottom of this.
His steps slowed as another thought surfaced—Steven's words, the ones that stuck with him after everything.
"If you find the person who did this to him… tell , and I'll be there in a heartbeat."
He didn't even ask for paynt, Max realized. Maybe he's not soone who can be bought. Maybe he only needed the money because of what he's dealing with… but the rest? That ca from sowhere real.
Eventually, Max ca to a stop.
Parked at the curb was a sleek, black car. Standing beside it, arms crossed and posture sharp, was a man in a tailored suit.
Even though it wasn't the weekend, Aron had shown up.
He gave Max a small nod and pulled open the door.
"You should really look around before doing things like that," Max said with a faint smile, eyeing the street behind them.
"I am aware, sir," Aron replied smoothly. "But with the students no longer causing you trouble at school, is there still a need to hide who you are?"
"There's plenty of reasons," Max said as he climbed into the car. "Especially when we don't even know who our enemy is."
Aron followed closely behind, closing the door behind him.
"That's what today's about, isn't it?" Aron asked. "To find out."
Max didn't respond right away. His eyes were locked on the road ahead, thoughts racing.
This was the only lead he had—his only real connection to what might've caused the attack. There was one other possible link… but that was a door Max wasn't ready to open. Not yet.
Eventually, the car pulled up in front of a tall wall and gated entrance. Across the large rectangular building, a sign read: Juvenile Detention Centre.
As the gates opened and the car rolled through, Max spotted several guards on patrol. They wore tactical vests and carried batons—but no firearms.
In this country, firearms were heavily restricted, even more so inside facilities like this. Giving guards guns inside a juvenile center would only increase the risk. So they were kept minimal. Controlled.
The car ca to a stop.
Max stepped out, and Aron stayed close at his side as they walked to the front desk and gave the necessary details.
This place was, for all intents and purposes, a prison for minors. But since the inmates weren't legally adults, they still had certain mandatory facilities—like basic education classes.
Still, just like in a real prison, inmates were allowed visitors.
Normally, a visit like this would require approval from the one being held. They'd have to give the na of who they were willing to et.
But in this case, Max had pulled a few strings. The na was finally called. Max stood up.
"I'll be okay. Don't look so nervous," Max said with a smirk, glancing back at Aron.
Only one visitor was allowed inside. And this one… Max had to handle alone.
He followed the guard through a heavy steel door. Inside was a small, sterile room—gray walls, no windows, just a chair in front of a thick glass panel. In front of it sat a small microphone, a button to activate it, and perforated holes for sound to pass through.
Max sat down, calm but alert.
Across from him, the second door opened.
A guard stepped in first.
And behind him… was Dipter.
He looked thinner but not weak. His face was still cocky, his smirk intact as he strolled right up to the seat across from Max and sat down without hesitation.
"Oh!" Dipter said, eyes lighting up. "I knew you'd co see eventually, but I didn't think it'd be this soon…"
He leaned forward, hands clasped under his chin.
"Max… Stern," he added, making sure to pronounce the last na with slow, deliberate emphasis.
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