Across the table, I watched recognition move through his expression. The repetition was too structured to dismiss entirely. He could protect his daughter. Or he could protect his name. He chose the latter.
“If my daughter’s presence has contributed to instability,” he said evenly, “we will comply with administrative measures while a thorough review is conducted.”
Elise’s head jerked toward him.
He didn’t look at her. His gaze remained fixed on the assistant headmaster. Control. Damage mitigation.
Chase wrapped an arm around Avery’s shoulders. She didn’t resist.
The hearing concluded with formal language. Elise would be suspended pending investigation. Removed from committees. Temporarily sidelined. Not expelled. Not destroyed.
Dunn ensured that.
The parents were asked to stay, while we were dismissed. We stood. Chairs scraped softly against the floor.
As Elise gathered her things, she didn’t plead her case, but she did turn toward me. Her expression had changed. Not defeated. She was strategizing.
Dunn rested a hand briefly on her shoulder. His eyes lifted and met mine. This wasn’t about school anymore.
Outside the room, the hallway felt narrower. The door closed behind us with a quiet click that sounded far louder than it should have.
Jax’s hand rested on Avery’s lower back. He hadn’t let go of her once. Theo stood beside Tori without speaking, his presence solid.
For a moment, no one moved. Then Chase turned to Avery, and he pulled her into a tight embrace with something fractured in his expression that I had never seen before.
“You should’ve told me.” His voice broke. “I knew something was wrong, but not who was causing you pain. I would’ve done something, Aves.”
“I’m telling you now.” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder.
“I thought you were just… off,” he continued, voice tightening. “I thought it was something stupid. Not someone breaking you.”
“It was real,” she replied softly.
He flinched. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.”
Silence stretched.
“I was right there. Every day. And I didn’t see it.”
Avery’s expression grew tired. “That was the point. It wasn’t one thing. It was just… constant.”
He swallowed. “She made you feel insignificant.”
“Yes.”
“And I did nothing.”
“You didn’t know,” she said quickly.
“That’s worse.”
Chase had always been protective. Sometimes to a fault. But this was different. This wasn’t about stepping in to fight someone. This was about failing to recognize a slow unraveling.
Avery stepped closer this time. “You couldn’t have fixed it by punching someone,” she said quietly.
He almost laughed, but it came out hollow. “Don’t assume I would’ve stopped at that.”