Silas sat in his usual spot—second row from the back, near the window. His hoodie sleeves were pushed to his elbows, notebook open in front of him though he hadn’t written a word. He had arrived early, as always. He preferred the quiet moments before a room filled.

  The chair beside him scraped against the floor. Someone sat down.

  “Hey,” the boy said. His voice was bright, almost cheerful. Too cheerful for Ravenwood’s gray morning.

  Silas shifted his gaze just enough to see him. Shorter than him. Brown hair that refused to stay flat. A smile that looked permanent, like it hadn’t yet learned how to fade.

  “I’m Evan.”

  Silas turned his eyes back to the empty board. “Unfortunate.”

  Evan blinked. “Unfortunate?”

  “That you sat here.” His tone was calm, even. Not hostile. Just factual.

  Most people would have taken the hint and moved. Evan leaned his elbows on the desk instead. “So what’s your name?”

  Silas considered ignoring him. But ignoring people usually made them louder. “Silas.”

  Evan repeated it under his breath, rolling the syllables around like he was testing them. “Silas. Serious name.”

  “Better than sounding ridiculous,” Silas replied.

  Before Evan could say more, the classroom door clicked open. A woman entered—tall, with sharp features and hair pinned neatly back. She carried a stack of papers tucked under one arm and a kind of authority that silenced the room without effort.

  “Good morning,” she said, her voice clear and firm. “Welcome to a new year at Ravenwood. My name is Ms. Caldwell, and before we begin, I’d like everyone to introduce themselves. Name, and something you’re looking forward to this year.”

  This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  The room stirred with shifting chairs and restless glances. Silas tapped his pen against his notebook, the sound quiet but steady, as each name drifted by. He didn’t look at the students speaking, but he memorized the details anyway—the boy who mumbled, the girl who chewed her sleeve before answering, the one who spoke too loudly, as if to prove something.

  When it came to Evan’s turn, he sat up straighter. “Evan Grant. I’m looking forward to… making new friends.” His grin flicked sideways, briefly, toward Silas.

  Silas kept his eyes on his notebook. He didn’t write a word. But the remark filed itself neatly in the back of his mind.

  When it was his turn, he didn’t bother lifting his gaze. “Silas Thorne. I’m looking forward to silence.”

  A ripple of laughter spread through the class, low and nervous. Evan’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, it widened.

  The introductions carried on, voices blending into a blur. Ms. Caldwell eventually began listing schedules, rules, and expectations with clipped efficiency. Silas listened, cataloguing every word. Not because he cared about the rules, but because ignoring information was careless. He also noted the faint edge in Ms. Caldwell’s tone, the way her eyes lingered longer on a few students near the front row—one girl biting her nails, a boy tapping his pencil too fast.

  Evan leaned slightly toward him and whispered, “She sounds like she practices in front of a mirror.”

  Silas didn’t turn his head. “You sound like you’ve never been quiet a day in your life.”

  Evan grinned, unbothered. “Balance, right?”

  Silas let the silence stretch between them. Evan didn’t fill it, but he didn’t retreat either.

  The clock ticked. The classroom buzzed with side whispers and shifting feet. Silas studied the scratches etched into his desk, initials carved years ago, overlapping and tangled. His hoodie sleeve brushed the wood as he traced one letter with his eyes. J.R. Who were they? Why bother carving a mark no one would ever care about? People had strange ways of wanting to be remembered.

  The bell finally rang, and chairs scraped against the floor as students rushed for the door. Silas closed his notebook carefully, sliding it into his bag with the same deliberate precision he applied to everything.

  “See you tomorrow,” Evan said, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

  Silas paused at the doorway, hands sinking into his hoodie pocket. “That sounds like a threat.”

  Evan laughed. “Guess you’ll just have to survive it.”

  Silas walked on without looking back. He didn’t smile. He didn’t frown either. He just remembered.