School had become something strange for Max, something he never expected.
A sanctuary. Not because he liked the lessons. He didn't even attend most of them.
But because here, in the middle of the noise, he had time to think.
Time to breathe. Time to plan.
It was ironic, how a place that once felt suffocating was now the only place where his head felt clear.
I misjudged Steven, Max thought, absentmindedly spinning his pen between his fingers.
When I first met him, I thought he was easy to control. Thought his debts would make him desperate. That he'd choose money over everything.
His eyes drifted toward the window.
But that's not it. He values money because of his situation. But what drives him? That's different. I saw it on his face. The way he trained me. The way he meant every single word.
Max's hand stilled.
He's a man who chooses his morals over anything else.
And now, Max had placed him in a position of power.
