Chapter 6
1258 Words
NINE YEARS LATER.
Kael was now fourteen, living with Whitney and Robert. They had raised him as their own all these years, giving him a home, a roof, and a life that almost felt normal.
That night, after eating the hot spaghetti Whitney had made, he ran off. He remembered the Lumen Chain had accidentally slipped from his hand, landing close to the trash. He returned, searching desperately, but it was gone. Not knowing its true significance, he let it go and chose to forget it.
There had been no sign of his Uncle Corbin—the man his mother had told him to meet in New Orleans.
Now, Kael attended Stonegate College, trying to live like any other teenager, blending into a world that seemed ordinary, yet always carrying the shadows of the past with him.
★★★★
2/7/2016
Crescent Bay Medical Center.
“Ma’am, how are you related to the patient?”
Whitney’s eyes flicked down at the card she was scrolling through, her fingers brushing the edge of the paper. Her posture remained calm and professional, but there was a faint tension in her shoulders, a subtle stiffness that only those who worked long shifts would understand.
Across from her stood a woman in her early forties, eyes swollen from crying, fingers twisted together in anxious knots.
“I’m her mother,” the woman said, voice trembling. “Please, I want to see my baby.”
Whitney nodded, setting the card down gently. “Ok ma’am, you’d have to sign here. Her room is 2-1-7 upstairs, by your left. Please, try to remain calm... a steady heart rate will help both you and the patient.”
“Thank you,” the woman whispered, snatching the clipboard and hurrying down the corridor. Her heels clacked against the sterile tile, echoing faintly in the quiet wing. Whitney watched her go, then exhaled softly, smoothing the edge of the papers in her hand.
Her phone rang abruptly, breaking the quiet. The screen displayed an unknown number. Whitney didn’t hesitate. She lifted it to her ear, voice steady despite the brief flicker of curiosity.
“Hello?”
“Good day, ma’am. Am I speaking with Mrs. Whitney Harbour?”
Whitney’s brow furrowed for a moment, the smooth professionalism of the voice causing a flicker of unease.
“Uhm, y-es, this is Whitney. How may I help you?”
The voice on the other end was calm, polished and feminine. Whitney’s fingers gripped the phone slightly tighter.
“I’m Kael’s school principal, and we’d like you to come over for an emergency.”
Whitney’s hand went to her chest for just a second, as if bracing herself. “An emergency? What the hell happened? Is Kael alright?”
“He’s fine, but I can’t say the same for the other kid. Your son got into a fight.”
Whitney’s eyes widened. “Oh my gosh!”
She sprang to her feet so suddenly that her chair scraped against the floor. A few waiting patients looked up, startled by the noise. Whitney lowered her phone, whispering quickly, cheeks flushing.
“Sorry…”
She snatched her coat from the chair, grabbed her bag, and bolted toward the exit. Every step clicked against the floor, echoing through the quiet hallways—like the familiar tension of a nurse on high alert merging with the raw anxiety of a mother who might lose control.
Whitney swung open the car door and dropped her bag onto the passenger seat. She slid behind the wheel, fingers tightening around the steering wheel, heart hammering as she started the engine. Tires hummed against the asphalt as she sped through the streets of New Orleans, weaving past other cars, every second stretching unbearably, her mind racing with thoughts of Kael.
Inside Kael’s school, the principal’s office smelled faintly of polished wood, disinfectant, and a lingering hint of old leather from the chairs. Kael sat stiffly at the back, his shoulders hunched, fingers twisting nervously in his lap. His wide, fearful eyes tracked Whitney’s approach, shifting between her and the other boy.
The boy beside him, chubby, held a towel against his nose, blood seeping slightly through the fabric. He flinched at every sound, wincing as he tried to stifle the pain, eyes brimming with tears.
Whitney took a slow breath, struggling to find the right words. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. This must be some kind of misunderstanding…”
“Misunderstanding?” The principal’s voice, Jane McLaughlin cut sharp, disbelief and frustration threading every syllable. “Kael has gotten into eight fights this semester. I doubt this is just a misunderstanding.”
“Come on… they’re both kids. I’m sure they had an argument or something which resulted in this… It’s nothing serious.” Whitney replied calmly.
“Mrs Harbour, your...”
Before the principal could finish, the office door slammed open. A woman barreled in, face flushed, eyes wide with fury. It was Reggie’s mother, the boy bleeding.
“What the hell is going on here?” she yelled, her voice bouncing off the walls. “Oh my gosh, Reggie? Who the hell did this to you?”
“That freak over there, mom!” Reggie pointed at Kael, voice loud and accusing.
Whitney moved instinctively in front of Kael, shoulders squared, voice sharp and protective. “Hey, watch your mouth. Stop calling my son a freak.”
“But he’s a freak! Who the f**k fights like this? Look at what he did to my son!”
Whitney’s jaw tightened. “I know... I totally understand. You should be mad, but we’re adults, right? There are better ways we could resolve this.”
Diana Campbell raised a hand, her voice raw. “Well, start talking, or else I’m pressing charges.”
“Mrs Campbell, it has not gotten to that,” Principal Jane added quickly.
“Ok. I’m a nurse, so I’m going to take care of your child... You won’t have to worry about the cost of treatment,” Whitney continued, trying to maintain order.
Diana laughed, not in agreement, but mockery. “The f**k I look like, cheap? Do I look poor to you?” she spat, striding forward, eyes blazing.
Jane cleared her throat. "Mrs Campbell, Language please"
“I don't give a f**k," she cursed. "I want him expelled from this school. He’s a threat to my kid and other children, or else I pull away my stake and my son from this school.” She stormed out, dragging Reggie behind her.
Silence fell over the office like a heavy curtain, broken only by the faint ticking of the wall clock.
“Ma’am, I’m really sorry for…” Whitney began, her voice low and calm.
“Mrs Harbour, I guess this is the last time I’d entertain any indiscipline from Kael. The next action will result in expulsion. Let’s hope Mrs Campbell doesn’t press charges. For the meantime, Kael will face community service long with supervised detention for his actions.”
“I promise you, it won’t happen again. I’m really, really sorry for what my child has done,” Whitney pleaded, as they both exist the office.
Back in the car, Whitney and Kael buckled in, her hands found the steering wheel, fingers tightening as she searched for words that would soothe but also guide.
“I’m... sorry,” Kael murmured quietly, barely audible, but Whitney stayed silent. Her hands gripped the wheel, the engine’s low hum filling the tense space between them. Tires hissed through scattered puddles as the streets blurred past.
- Writer
