Too Close
"It's practical. If you were someone else, I wouldn't have even brought it up. I would have only alluded to it and let you fall into the conclusion yourself."
The professor scoffed out a sob. "What is practical about choosing vigilantes?"
"You heard him," Sylas said. "There's an organization that's been recruiting people from elite schools. You're smart, what do you think that means?"
The professor froze. She looked up at Sylas as though she didn't want to admit the obvious conclusion.
This time, she couldn't hold back her tears at all.
They knew.
Those bastards knew.
And they still let her son die, and for what? To hold onto a little more power?
The professor practically folded herself into her chair, sinking in deep and burying her head into her legs. She didn't care that Sylas was here anymore. She just sat there, grieving out her soul.