Chapter 15
The sun streamed through the wide windows of the art studio, casting soft golden light across the easels and scattered brushes. Colet stood by her station, silently sketching, her movements precise but lacking their usual energy. The faint rustle of papers and occasional chatter among classmates filled the air, but Colet seemed immune to it all.
Aiah watched her from across the room, her gaze lingering on the bandage on Colet’s face. She’d been preoccupied since the encounter at the mall, questions swirling in her mind. Today, she couldn’t hold back any longer.
When the other students began filtering out after class, Aiah approached Colet, her heels clicking softly on the tiled floor.
“Colet,” she said, her voice calm but firm.
Colet barely looked up, her brow furrowing as she focused on packing her supplies. “Yes, ma’am?”
“I want to talk to you,” Aiah said, folding her arms.
Colet sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “About what?”
Aiah hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “The man you were with at the mall. Who is he?”
Colet froze for a split second before raising an eyebrow, her expression neutral. “Why do you care?”
Aiah’s jaw tightened, but she kept her tone even. “Because I’m concerned about you. You’ve been acting differently. You’re distracted, closed off. And now you’re walking around with a bandage on your face.”
Colet snorted, shaking her head. “Ma’am, with all due respect, I can handle myself. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” Aiah pressed, stepping closer. “Who is he?”
Colet finally looked at her, her lips curling into a faint, humorless smile. “You said you know how to mind your own business, ma’am. Maybe you should start practicing that.”
Aiah exhaled sharply, frustration bubbling under her calm exterior. “Fine. Don’t tell me about him. But can you at least explain why you’re not working at 7/11 anymore?”
Colet blinked, caught off guard. “How do you—”
“I asked the manager,” Aiah said quickly. “They told me you resigned.”
Colet’s expression hardened, her shoulders tensing. “I don’t need that job anymore,” she said curtly.
“Why?” Aiah asked softly, taking another step forward. “What changed, Colet?”
Colet didn’t answer. She turned on her heel, ready to leave.
As Colet walked toward the door, Aiah reached out, her hand gently catching Colet’s arm.
“Wait,” Aiah said, her voice softer now.
Colet stopped, her gaze darting to Aiah’s hand on her arm. She tensed but didn’t pull away.
Aiah hesitated for a moment, then slowly reached up and touched the edge of the bandage on Colet’s face. Her touch was light, careful, as if afraid of hurting her.
“This needs to be changed,” Aiah said quietly, her eyes scanning the faint bruise beneath the bandage. “Hold still.”
Colet’s breath caught as Aiah pulled a fresh bandage from her pocket. She felt the professor’s fingers brush her skin as she gently peeled off the old one.
Aiah worked quickly, her movements precise and almost tender. When she smoothed the new bandage over Colet’s cheek, she stepped back, her gaze meeting Colet’s.
“There,” Aiah said softly. “Better.”
Colet swallowed hard, her emotions threatening to betray her carefully maintained facade. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she simply nodded and turned to leave again.
As the door closed behind Colet, Aiah leaned against the desk, her thoughts swirling.
She had seen something in Colet’s eyes—something raw and vulnerable that she couldn’t ignore. She didn’t know what Colet was going through, but one thing was clear: she couldn’t just stand by and pretend nothing was wrong.
“Colet,” she murmured under her breath, her hand brushing the edge of the desk. “What are you hiding from me?”