Jace Woods leaned against the wall outside the cafeteria, arms folded, eyes narrowed. He watched his brother, Marvin, in full motion, and the heat in his chest was more than anger. It was frustration, disgust, and a deep, gnawing sense of helplessness. Marvin walked around with that cocky swagger, tossing insults like confetti, smirking at anyone who flinched, and laughing when someone broke under his words. Today, his target was Cass Winfield.
She moved through the cafeteria like a ghost through a crowd, calm and deliberate, chin lifted, eyes forward. But Jace saw the subtle tremor in her shoulders, the tiny tightening of her jaw when Marvin’s voice cut through the room, cutting sharper than knives. She didn’t scream, didn’t yell, didn’t even stumble, but he could see it. He could see ho
