Chapter 225
Her mind snapped back to Gaston stepping out of the car earlier that evening. The smudge on his white cuff.
Just like this.
She pulled her hand away from the wall, her heart skipping a beat. Why would Gaston have brick dust on him? He had said he was meeting the Headmaster at the Plaza. The Headmaster had no reason to be here — on a deserted campus, in the dark, near this crumbling old wall.
She looked around the empty courtyard. The wind shifted through the ivy.
He was here, she realized. But why?
Jocelyn wiped the brick dust from her fingers, the gesture feeling like she was erasing the last trace of her old self. The carving now simply read Jocelyn +. It looked lonely. But it also looked clean. A blank slate.
The sound of a car pulling up startled her. It was Bella’s Uber. She had texted her the location.
“There you are. Thought you got kidnapped by the chess club,” Bella said, climbing out and handing her a bottle of water.
“Just doing some editing,” Jocelyn said, nodding at the wall.
𝘙𝘦с𝗼𝘮𝘮𝖾𝘯d 𝘨𝗮𝗅𝗇o𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘀.𝘤о𝗆 𝘵𝗈 𝘆𝗼𝗎r f𝗋i𝖾𝗻𝗱ѕ
Bella squinted at the faded carving. “Good. He didn’t deserve the brick space. Honestly, you should have carved ‘Jocelyn + Freedom.’”
Bella’s eyes wandered up the wall. She paused. She gasped.
“Jo. Look at that one. Up there,” Bella pointed.
Jocelyn looked up.
About seven feet off the ground — a height only a very tall man could reach comfortably — there was a fresh carving. It was deep and bold, the edges sharp, not worn like the others. Red dust still clung to the ivy leaves below it.
It was cut in a shield shape, like a family crest. Inside the shield were two sets of initials:
J.W. + G.C.
Jocelyn stared. Her breath caught in her throat.
“J.W… G.C…” she whispered.
A cold knot formed in her stomach. It had to be a coincidence. But Gaston had been here — the dust on his cuff proved it. Her mind raced. Is this part of his act? Is he trying to convince me he’s the devoted husband? The initials were a perfect match for Jovanni Waller and Gaston Collins. A public declaration of their partnership? Or was it something else entirely — a message meant only for her?
“He was here,” Jocelyn said, her voice unsteady. “That’s why he had the dust on his shirt. He wasn’t meeting the Headmaster. He came here to do this.”
“He came here just to carve this?” Bella grinned, wicked delight lighting up her face. “That is aggressively romantic. And kind of vandalistic. I love it.”
“It’s possessive,” Jocelyn said, though a darker thought pressed in beneath the surface. He’s marking his territory. But which territory — me, or the man whose initials are beside his? She couldn’t reach it even if she wanted to. It was too high. He had placed it where no one could easily alter it.
High above the petty dramas. High above the bullies.
A confusing warmth spread through her chest, tangled up with a deep, stubborn suspicion she couldn’t shake.
.
.