Ray Lin –
The second my trainers hit the pavement outside Ellesmere Law School, I swear I could've cried.
It was raining. Of course it was. Classic British drizzle, the kind that soaks your hair before you even open your umbrella. But God, I missed this.
"Oi! Miss Ray! Back from the dead, are we?" yelled Patrick, the older security guard, tipping his high-vis hat at me from the gate.
I darted towards him, hoodie up, coffee cups in hand. "Patrick! Still scaring off every boy who looks at me, yeah?"
He laughed. "Always. Got any more of that rubbish instant stuff you drink?"
"I brought the real deal today. Costa, no less," I said smugly, handing him the cup. "Don't say I don't spoil you."
Walking through campus was like slipping into a skin I hadn't worn in weeks. I was me again. Loud. Ridiculous. Alive.
"Ray!" shrieked Amelia from the second-year group chat. She tackled me in the hallway, nearly sending both of us flying. "Where the hell have you been? We were convinced you'd eloped with a professor or died in Italy."
"Honestly? Neither's as fun as it sounds," I laughed.
I kept going. Hugged professors. Bothered the cleaning staff. Cried in the loo for five minutes after seeing my locker still untouched. And when I came out, I made three freshers laugh so hard they nearly snorted tea out of their noses.
I wasn't going to tell anyone what happened. Not yet. Maybe never. But here — in this grey stone campus with its bad coffee and worn-out library chairs — I could breathe.
Almost.
Because parked just outside the back entrance was a matte-black Range Rover with tinted windows.
Kai stood beside it, black coat on, arms crossed, looking like he could kill someone just by breathing.
Sebastian's most trusted man. Shadow-silent. Eyes always scanning. But when I waved at him?
He gave the smallest nod back.
And that... was enough.
---
I Shouldn't Be Here
Sebastian Blake –
I don't check in on people. That's not who I am.
But watching the feed from Kai's camera made my stomach twist in a way I didn't appreciate.
She was… smiling.
Genuinely. Wildly. That annoying, too-wide grin plastered across her face like the past few weeks hadn't existed.
She was hugging staff. Teasing professors. Sitting in the rain like it couldn't touch her. Talking with people like she belonged here. Like she wasn't a girl who'd been broken in more ways than one.
I knew better.
"Kai," I said into the Bluetooth. "Keep your distance."
"You're already five minutes from the university," he replied. "You might as well come out."
I sighed, tightened my coat, and stepped out of the car.
The Ellesmere campus was old, grand, and painfully public. Grey brick, black iron fencing, the kind of place where future barristers and ministers were bred. I hated it on sight.
But she loved it.
And there she was.
Ray. Sitting on a low wall in front of the Student Union, feeding crumbs of her flapjack to a bloody pigeon. The rain had frizzed her hair, and she'd tied it up in a ridiculous scrunchie that looked like it belonged to a ten-year-old.
She was talking to two boys. Freshers, maybe. Both visibly in love with her. One kept dropping his pen. The other was nervously fixing his hoodie every time she smiled.
And Ray?
She was soaking wet, legs swinging, face lit up like Christmas.
I didn't step out from the shadows. I didn't call her name. But I knew, then, with complete certainty:
If anyone — anyone — tried to take this from her again…
They'd be dead before they touched her.