Is she Worth It?

Chapter9

Julian was standing there in the dim light of a wall sconce, looking frustratingly put together. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the top, his hair was a mess, and he had that look in his eyes—the one that used to make her think there was something real under the surface. But tonight, it just made her stomach turn.

His eyes immediately dropped to her hand. She was still clutching the drive.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. His voice wasn't loud, but it had that heavy "Thorne" weight to it. "And what is that, Elara? That’s my father’s encryption. Tell me you didn't go in there..."

"What am I doing here? I'm doing what I have to do because you're too much of a coward to do anything at all!"

Julian stepped back, his face going pale in the dim light. "Elara, wait..."

"No! You don't get to tell me to wait!" she snapped, her voice cracking with the weight of everything she’d been holding back. "What concerns you about what’s in my hand? You can’t do anything about it anyway! Ever since this started, you’ve done absolutely nothing. I helped you when you were falling apart in the rain. I kept your secrets. I saved your reputation from your own father. And what have you done for me, Julian?"

She took a step toward him, forcing him to look at her. "You sat there. You sat in that lecture hall and watched while Sienna took my scholarship. You watched while they ruined my mother’s name. You’ve done nothing! You just stand there looking 'concerned' while my life burns down!"

Julian stood there, looking like she’d punched him in the gut. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He looked stunned. He looked small in his own house.

"You want to know what this is?" she hissed, holding up the silver drive. "It’s my life. Because I finally figured out that waiting for you to help me is like waiting for a ghost to pick up a shovel. You’re a Thorne, Julian. You have all the power in the world, and yet you're completely useless to me."

Julian reached out, his hand trembling slightly as if he wanted to stop her, but his fingers caught nothing but air. He watched her, and for the first time in his life, he felt a genuine, agonizing knot in his chest. He’d had plenty of girls before—girls who were easy, girls who were a game—but Elara was the first girl he actually cared about. Seeing her look at him with that much disgust hurt more than his father’s temper ever could.

But Elara didn't give him the chance to find his voice. She didn't want his excuses.

She brushed past him, her shoulder hitting his with enough force to make him stumble. She didn't look back to see the look on his face or the way he was staring at the floor.

She pushed through the heavy service door and stepped out into the cold night air. The heavy weight of the drive was in her pocket, and she was alone, but for the first time in weeks, she felt like she could actually breathe.

***

Elara didn’t go back to the Vance house. She couldn’t stand the thought of Marcus watching her, waiting for her to deliver results like a machine he’d plugged in. Instead, she ended up at a 24-hour laundromat near the edge of town. It smelled like cheap detergent and hot dust. She sat on a cracked plastic chair for hours, watching a stray sock tumble around in a dryer, her fingers white-knuckled around the flash drive in her pocket. The metal edges dug into her palm, leaving a dull ache, but it was the only thing making her feel like she wasn't just drifting away.

She’d actually done it. She had broken into Arthur Thorne’s house. Her stomach did a sick flip every time she thought about it. If this didn't work, she wasn't just looking at losing school; she was looking at a police station.

By the time she walked toward the Administration building, the sky was a flat, miserable grey. She felt every minute of the sleep she hadn't gotten. Her head throbbed, and her hoodie felt heavy with the damp morning air. She felt like she was walking toward a cliff.

The hearing room was small and stuffy, crowded with people who had way more power than she did. Sienna was already there, looking perfect in a soft pink dress. She had a tiny bandage on her cheek, positioned just right to make her look like a victim. Her father stood over her, looking down at Elara with total disgust. Marcus sat with his lawyers, his eyes darting to Elara the second she walked in. He looked hungry for whatever information he thought she’d found. He had no idea how far she’d actually gone.

The Dean cleared his throat, looking tired. "Miss Vance, we’ve looked at everything. The incident with Miss Sterling is documented. Without a real defense, we’re moving forward with the rustication. Unless you have anything to say for yourself?"

Elara stood up. Her legs felt heavy, like she was moving through deep water. She could feel everyone staring. She saw Arthur Thorne leaning against the back wall, looking bored and smug—until he saw her hand move.

When she pulled the silver drive out, Arthur’s face didn't just change; it went totally still. He stopped breathing. In that second, he knew. He knew someone had been in his study last night, and he knew he’d been caught.

She looked toward the back of the room. Julian was sitting in the very last row. He looked like he hadn't slept either. His face was pale, and he was staring at her like he couldn't believe she was actually standing there. He knew she’d called him a coward, and now he was watching her do the one thing he was too scared to do.

Elara didn't look at Marcus. She didn't give Sienna the satisfaction of a glance. She walked up to the table, her heart thumping against her ribs, and set the drive down with a quiet clack.

"I'm not here to talk about the slap," she said, her voice sounding raspy and thin in the silent room. "And I'm not here to apologize."