Elijah looked confused. "Hiring me? For what?"

"An exclusive contract," Nathan said, using a term he’d heard Alexander use. "I don’t know how this school works. I don’t know where the library books are, I don’t know how to use that weird laptop properly, and I definitely don’t want to wait in line for lunch."

"You want me to get your lunch?"

"No." Nathan shook his head. "I want you to be my assistant. And only mine."

Nathan stepped closer, his voice low and serious. "I’ll pay you one thousand euros a month. But there’s a condition."

Elijah’s eyes widened. "Are you serious? That’s too much. What’s the condition?"

"You don’t serve anyone else," Nathan said. "If David or anyone asks you to get them water, you tell them you’re busy working for the Salazars. You tell them you’re booked."

Elijah stared at him, trying to process the offer. "You’re just giving me money."

"No," Nathan corrected calmly. "I’m asking for your service. And I’m buying my peace of mind. I don’t want to see you getting bullied, and you need the cash. It’s a business deal."

Nathan could see the conflict on Elijah’s face. The battle between pride and necessity. Then Elijah probably thought of his mother.

"Okay," Elijah whispered, letting out a breath he seemed to have been holding for a long time. "Okay. I accept."

"Good." Nathan pulled out his phone. "I’ll give you the money tomorrow. For this month."

Elijah stayed silent, his eyes fixed on Nathan. He didn’t know if he could fully trust him, but he saw sincerity there. After a moment, he smiled faintly.

"Thank you, Nathan. Really."

"Don’t thank me," Nathan muttered, pulling his scarf up to cover his face. "I’m going to need your help. A lot. Especially with the laptop. It drives me crazy."

Elijah laughed, a genuine, relieved sound. "I’m top of the class. I can help you with anything, as long as it doesn’t involve money."

"Perfect."

Nathan headed toward the front steps. Louis had said he needed to call him, since they weren’t allowed to wait inside.

A few moments later, the black car driven by Louis stopped in front of the building. Nathan went down the stairs and got in immediately.

"We’re still waiting for Nael," Louis said.

"Where is he?"

Louis just shook his head.

An hour passed. Nael still hadn’t come out.

Ten more minutes. Nathan couldn’t take it anymore.

"I’m going to get him," Nathan muttered, grabbing his coat.

"No, Nathan. Just wait here. He’ll come," Louis said gently from the front seat.

"If I wait any longer, I’ll turn into a fossil. I’ll be right back."

Nathan slammed the door and marched toward the school building. The bitter wind bit at his face, but irritation kept him warm. He knew Nael’s class. He took the shortcut through the faculty parking lot, the same route he’d passed earlier.

It was quiet. Too quiet. And getting darker by the minute. The shadows of the trees stretched along the side of the building, twisting across the pavement. The cold, empty stillness made the hairs on the back of Nathan’s neck stand up.

Then he heard it.

A sound like tearing paper. A ragged, desperate wheeze.

Nathan stopped.

What is that?

His heart began to pound.

The sound came again, clearer this time. It sounded like someone choking. Or dying.

Nathan scanned the lot. Then he saw a figure slumped against a black sports car, sliding slowly down the driver’s side door.

His eyes narrowed. "Hello?"

A pained groan answered him. A human!

Nathan ran over, boots crunching on the gravel. As he got closer, he recognized the messy dark hair and the expensive leather jacket.

It was Zane.

The arrogant boy looked nothing like a prince now. Zane was clutching his chest with one hand, the other clawing uselessly at his collar. His face was pale, almost translucent, and his lips were turning a terrifying shade of blue.

"Hey." Nathan dropped to his knees beside him. "Zane? What’s wrong?"

Zane looked up. His gray eyes were wide with panic, a look Nathan never expected to see on someone so perpetually bored with the world. Zane tried to speak, but only a thin, whistling sound escaped his throat.

Dia pointed weakly inside the car and pointed out Nathan’s bag.

"Your bag?" Nathan asked.

Zane nodded frantically, his chest heaving as he fought for air that wouldn’t come.

Nathan grabbed the leather backpack inside and dumped its contents onto the cold ground without hesitation.

Textbooks. An expensive tablet. A pack of cigarettes. A lighter.

"Where is it...?" Nathan muttered, sweeping through the mess.

His fingers hit cold plastic.

A blue, L-shaped canister.

"This?"

Zane nodded.

Nathan snatched up the inhaler and scrambled back to Zane, who was now doubled over, his vision clearly blurring.

"Here," Nathan said, shaking it the way he’d seen people do in movies. He pulled off the cap. "Open your mouth."

Zane didn’t hesitate. He tilted his head back, lips parting desperately.

"On three," Nathan said. "One. Two. Three."

He pressed down.

Hiss .

The medicated mist burst into Zane’s mouth.

Zane went rigid, holding his breath, eyes squeezed shut, knuckles white where he gripped the car door. The seconds stretched painfully.

Then he exhaled, a long, shaky breath. The wheezing was gone.

Zane took the inhaler from Nathan’s hand, fingers brushing against Nathan’s cold skin. Still trembling, he brought it to his lips and took a second dose, inhaling deeply and holding it in.

Nathan leaned back on his heels, watching. Color slowly returned to Zane’s face. The blue tint faded from his lips, replaced by pink. His breathing steadied. The panic in his eyes retreated behind his usual icy composure.

For a moment, they sat there on the frozen asphalt, surrounded by silent cars.

Zane lowered the inhaler and took a few careful breaths. He looked at it, then at Nathan.

Something flickered in his gray eyes, embarrassment, vulnerability, but it vanished instantly, sealed behind indifference.

Zane stood. He was unsteady for a second, then regained his balance.

He didn’t offer Nathan a hand.

He bent down and shoved his belongings back into the bag, the tablet, the books, the cigarettes, zipped it up, and slung it over his shoulder.

He looked at Nathan one last time, hesitating as if considering whether to speak.

Then he turned away, opened the car door, and slid into the driver’s seat.

The engine roared, shattering the silence.

Nathan stayed where he was, watching as the car reversed and sped out of the lot, disappearing into the evening traffic without a single word.

"You’re welcome, asshole," Nathan muttered to the empty air as he stood up and brushed off his knees.