Edmund Chavez's POV:
The second that gray-haired brat spat that vile, insulting word at Anabella, I felt a primal urge to lung forward and give him the discipline he clearly lacked.
Since he had proven himself to be that malicious, my "help" was no longer relevant. He had to go. There was no place for a boy like that in the school I founded.
Peace finally returned to the manicured lawns of Lumina School. A teacher led Elinor toward her classroom; the girl looked pale, casting frequent, anxious glances back at her mother.
Anabella maintained a mask of gentle, fierce strength, watching until her daughter disappeared into the red brick building. Then, the smile vanished instantly. She spun on her heel and marched straight for the school gates.
"Anabella," I called out, quickening my pace
