CHAPTER NINETEEN
Peter scrambles his way to Estelle’s classroom, almost skidding past it. Bursting through the door, over thirty minutes late.
Everyone turns to look at him.
Two boys standing on stage manipulate fireballs. Their concentrations waver.
Estelle and Helios, standing at the back of the stage, stop watching and stare at him.
Peter puts a hand on the nape of his neck. “Sorry I’m late.” He scrunches a cheek, pursing his lips, and runs his hand over his hair.
Estelle smirks. “Over thirty minutes late.” She looks him in the eyes. “I hope you have a good excuse?” She watches him put out a hand. “Is that blood? Have you been attacked?” She rushes to the edge of the stage.
Peter looks at his hand, a bit of blood still on the palm. “Oh, no.” He shakes his head, letting out a brea
