THE MAFIA KING OF BLACKWOOD HIGH

The one place where the lock didn't fail was the janitor's closet on the third floor. And that's exactly where Ava Bennett would slip away to change out of her school uniform, every Tuesday and Thursday, just before she headed to her shift at Rossi's Diner. It was her own little secret spot, hidden away from the rest of the school, where she could quickly transform from student to waitress. As she folded her blazer and put it in her bag, she heard the sound of voices coming from outside. It wasn't weird that the school was still occupied after hours. Blackwood High usually cleared out quickly after 4 pm, but there were always a few stragglers - a teacher catching up on paperwork, the debate team discussing their latest topic in the library, or someone who had forgotten their car keys. Ava had gotten used to tuning all of this out. As a scholarship student, she knew she didn't quite fit in, not completely anyway. And when you're in a situation like that, it's best to just keep a low profile and focus on your own thing. That way, you avoid drawing attention to yourself and can just get on with your day. For Ava, that meant putting her head down, minding her own business, and trying to blend in as much as possible. But these voices weren't normal. They were low. Too calm. The kind of calm that made the hair on her arms stand up before her brain even knew why. She should have stayed in the closet. She told herself that later, over and over, lying awake replaying the ten seconds that ruined everything. She should have waited for the footsteps to fade and then taken the long way to the bus stop, like always. Instead, she opened the door an inch. The east stairwell was occupied by three people. She immediately recognized two of them - Damian Russo was a familiar face to everyone at Blackwood High. He was tall, with dark hair, and had this confident air about him, like the entire school revolved around him. Standing next to him was Marco, always lurking in the background, and often carrying Damian's bag for him, especially when Damian couldn't be bothered to carry it himself. The third guy was a stranger to her. He looked older, probably around forty, and was dressed in a fancy gray suit that seemed pricey even from a distance. His face had turned as white as a sheet. "Please," the man said. " Please, I have a family—" "You should've thought about your family," Damian said, "before you talked to the Marchettis." Ava's body suddenly felt icy cold. It only took a split second for her to realize what was right in front of her. The guy made a run for it, but not at Damian - he was trying to get past him and make a dash for the stairs. Marco quickly grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him back. That's when Ava noticed the gun in Damian's hand, it was black and looked like it was a part of him, steady and calm. He didn't think twice, just lifted the gun and pulled the trigger, firing at close range. The sound cracked off the stairwell walls, sharper and louder than anything Ava had ever heard. The man dropped. He wasn't running anymore. He wasn't doing anything anymore. The closet door creaked. She didn't mean to, but her body reacted on its own - it jerked back, and her shoulder bumped into a mop bucket, sending it crashing to the floor with a loud noise that seemed like a gunshot in the quiet room. Every instinct told her to run. She didn't. She just couldn't move. Her legs felt like jelly, and her hand was still gripping the door. As she stood there, she saw Damian Russo slowly turn his head, his expression calm and untroubled, as if he already knew what he would see. Through the narrow gap in the door, their eyes met, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Their eyes met. Everything just froze for a moment. The guy was lying on the floor, and Marco was standing right over him. The lights in the stairwell were humming away, like they didn't even notice what was going on. And then there was Damian, staring at her with this really intense look, like he was trying to solve a puzzle or something - he was already thinking about what she might do next, and he was planning his next move, way ahead of her. "Marco," he said, his eyes fixed on hers, "just give us a minute, okay?" Marco just went along with it. He lifted the body like it was a feather and pulled it towards the back door, like it was something he did every week. Maybe for him, it was just another day. Ava's brain screamed at her to scream. To run. To do anything except stand frozen in a supply closet with blood drying twenty feet away, and the only witness to her whole life walking straight toward her. "Come on out," Damian said, "or if you'd rather, I can step inside. Either way, we're going to have a conversation." She stepped out. Some small, sensible part of her knew a locked closet wasn't going to save her. When you saw him up close, it was hard to believe he could be a killer. That was the really scary part. He looked just like everyone said he was - the kid whose family donated a lot of money to the school, the one who got the new gym built, the one all the girls talked about in the bathroom. And yet, he seemed completely calm, not even out of breath. "Ava Bennett," he said. Not a question. It was a shock to her that he was aware of her name, and this realization frightened her even more than the sight of the blood. "She spoke up, saying she hadn't seen a thing. But the words sounded false, even to her own ears, and she could tell they didn't go over well. The lie had slipped out quickly, and now it just hung there, awkward and unconvincing." He looked at her with a tilted head, like he was trying to figure out what to do with her. "You know everything now," he said. This put them in a tough spot. He seemed to be deciding whether she was worth keeping around or if she was disposable. "I won't say a word," she whispered, her voice shaking a little, and she couldn't stand that it did. "I promise, I don't know anything about that guy, and honestly, I don't want to know anything about him either." He spoke the words straightforwardly, without any harshness, but that's what made them so difficult to hear. It was as if he was stating a simple truth, something that couldn't be changed. "You're aware of my father's line of work, and mine too," he said. "Once you know something like that, you can't just forget it, no matter how much you might want to." Ava's back slammed into the door frame, and she realized she was out of options, with no place left to turn. What's next, she thought, and instantly regretted it. It annoyed her that she even asked herself that question. A part of her, the one that had been hiding in plain sight for three years, always weighing the pros and cons, thinking about how to make ends meet, how to help her brother with the rent, and her mom with her exhausting double shifts, was already searching for an escape route. She had gotten so used to being invisible, to blending into the background, that it was frustrating to see that old habit resurface now. Damian looked at her for a long moment. Somewhere below, a door opened and shut — Marco, finishing up. The hallway smelled like bleach, and under the bleach, something Ava didn't want to name. "You've got two options," he said finally. He said it like he already knew the answer and was just telling her the rules. Like being kind or being cruel didn't matter to him — they were just two ways to get the same result. "Come into my world," he said, his eyes locked on hers. "Just keep your mouth shut, do exactly as I tell you, and I'll make sure you're safe - you and your family too." The word "family" caught her off guard, it was like a warning and a promise all at once. Ava realized, in that moment, that he was aware of her little brother, her mom's job at the hospital, and other things about her life that she had never shared with anyone at school. It seemed that finding out people's secrets was what Damian Russo did with his time, instead of doing his homework. He had this way of knowing things that made her feel like he could see right through her. Ava was surprised, and a little scared, that he knew so much about her, and she wondered how he had found out all these things. It was like he had been watching her, or asking around about her, and that thought made her feel uneasy. "Or what?" she said, trying to sound calm, even though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer. He didn't blink. "Or you disappear." The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting an eerie glow. In the distance, a car door closed with a loud thud - Marco was gone, speeding away from the chaos of the past twenty minutes as if it was just another ordinary day. Ava couldn't stop thinking about her little brother, who was only twelve years old and was probably waiting for her to come home so they could eat dinner together. She knew he hated eating alone. Then she thought about how her mom would react if two police officers showed up at their door - her face would probably be a mix of worry and disappointment. Ava also thought about all the things she had been working towards, like scholarships and second chances, and how she was so tired of trying to stay under the radar her whole life. But now, it seemed like she had just blown her cover, and on this night of all nights, she had failed miserably at being unnoticed. "That's not a real choice," she whispered. A hint of a smile flashed across his face, but it was gone before she could even be sure she'd seen it. "No," Damian agreed. " It's not." He stretched out his hand, not for a handshake, but just holding it out, palm up, waiting for her to take it. It was like he already knew what she would do, like saying no wasn't even a possibility. He just stood there, his hand open, expecting her to put her hand in his. Ava looked at his hand. Then at the dark stain on the floor Marco hadn't quite cleaned up. Then back at Damian's face — calm, unreadable, terrifyingly patient, like he had all the time in the world to wait for her to understand how few choices she actually had. She didn't take his hand. But she didn't run either. "Fine," she said. " I'm listening." Damian's mouth curled up, but it wasn't really a smile. It was more like he was just getting started, like he was making the first move in a game that he already knew he was going to win. "Smart girl," he said. " Be here tomorrow. Seven a.m. Don't be late. And Ava?" She waited, throat tight. "Don't even think about taking off without me," he warned. "I'd really hate having to track you down, that's just a hassle I don't need." He strolled by her, near enough for her to pick up the scent of copper and a hint of something else, a bit more intense, underneath. Then, just like that, he was gone - his footsteps steady on the stairs, like the whole thing had been no big deal. Ava stood alone in the stairwell for a long time before her legs remembered how to move.