The corridors of the school were already quiet, most students having gone home. The setting sun filtered through the wide windows, painting the hallway with orange streaks. Inside the almost-empty classroom, the air was tense—charged with the unspoken, the unwanted, and the undeniable.
Xena’s notebook was gone. Well—technically, not gone. Just… imprisoned inside Kyle’s bag.
And that was worse.
“Give. It. Back.” Xena’s voice was sharp, clipped, every word laced with the threat of imminent violence. She had both hands planted on the edge of Kyle’s desk, leaning forward like a tigress about to pounce.
But Kyle only leaned back in his chair, perfectly composed, arms crossed casually. His bag—containing the incriminating notebook—rested safely beside him, close enough to touch yet entirely
