chapter three:The mark he left behind
738 Words
Jace didn’t come to class on Thursday.
Mara told herself she hadn’t noticed.
She was lying.
She noticed his empty chair before she had even put her books down.
She hated herself for looking at it.
The lecture began.
She taught.
She answered questions.
She moved through the room with the controlled confidence her students expected from her.
But every time the door opened, her eyes moved toward it.
Jace never appeared.
After class, Mara found herself standing outside the student administration office.
She nearly turned around.
Then she remembered the blood.
She remembered his father’s name lighting up his phone.
She remembered the message.
There was another one.
She asked the administrator whether Jace had attended any classes that morning.
The woman checked.
No.
He had missed everything.
Mara left.
Her phone rang before she reached her car.
Jace.
She answered immediately.
Where are you?
Silence.
Then his voice.
Why?
Because you missed class.
That’s all?
Mara closed her eyes.
No.
His breathing was uneven.
You sound terrible.
I’m fine.
You’re not.
A pause.
Then, quieter:
Please don’t come looking for me.
The call ended.
Mara stood beside her car with the phone still against her ear.
Five minutes later, she was driving.
She found him behind an abandoned student theatre.
He sat on the steps with his elbows resting on his knees.
His shirt was torn near the collar.
There was a fresh bruise along his cheek.
Mara stopped several feet away.
Jace looked up.
I told you not to come.
You did.
Yet here you are.
He gave a humourless smile.
You’re stubborn.
So are you.
She sat beside him.
For a while, neither spoke.
Rain had begun falling lightly, leaving dark marks across the concrete.
Mara noticed his hand trembling.
She reached for it without thinking.
Jace stiffened.
Her fingers stopped.
He looked at her hand.
Then at her face.
Mara slowly withdrew it.
Sorry.
His expression softened.
Don’t be.
The words stayed between them.
He looked away.
My father doesn’t like when I come home late.
Mara said nothing.
He doesn’t like when I talk back either.
Still nothing.
And sometimes he forgets I’m not twelve anymore.
She felt her throat tighten.
Is that what happened?
Jace laughed quietly.
You ask too many questions.
It’s part of the job.
No.
His eyes met hers.
It’s part of who you are.
Something warm and dangerous moved through her.
She looked away.
Jace leaned back.
I deserved the reputation.
What?
The fights. The parties. All of it.
He swallowed.
If everyone already thinks you’re a problem, eventually you stop trying to prove them wrong.
Mara looked at him.
That’s not true.
His expression hardened.
You don’t know me.
No.
She held his gaze.
But I would like to.
The silence that followed was different.
Jace stared at her as if she had said something she wasn’t supposed to.
Then he stood.
I should go.
Jace—
He stopped.
Don’t look at me like that.
Like what?
Like I’m worth saving.
Her heart tightened.
Because people who try to save me usually want to own me afterward.
Then he walked away.
Mara remained on the steps.
She had spent years building walls between herself and everyone else.
Yet somehow this damaged, impossible boy had found a door she hadn’t realized was unlocked.
She returned to the university before sunset.
Professor Hart was waiting outside her office.
You went looking for Rowan.
It wasn’t a question.
Mara stopped.
How did you know?
Hart smiled gently.
You have a habit of caring too much.
The warmth in his expression should have reassured her.
Instead, she remembered the anonymous message.
She remembered the cleaner’s frightened face.
And for the first time, she wondered why Hart had warned her about Jace before she had even met him.
He handed her a folder.
I thought you should see this.
She opened it.
Inside was Jace’s disciplinary record.
Fights.
Suspensions.
Complaints.
But tucked between the official reports was a photocopy of an old newspaper article.
STUDENT FOUND UNCONSCIOUS IN UNIVERSITY RESIDENCE.
The date was eight years earlier.
The article mentioned a girl.
The location was listed as—
Room 314.
Mara’s breath caught.
At the bottom of the page, someone had circled one sentence.
A younger student reportedly witnessed the incident but refused to give a statement.
No name.
Only one initial.
J.
Mara looked up.
Hart was watching her.
Very carefully.
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