The last bell of the day had rung nearly an hour ago, but the quiet hallways of Crestwood Academy. Most classrooms stood dark and silent, doors locked, desks lined neatly in rows like soldiers at attention.

But at the very end of the west wing, one door remained lit.

Chloe paused in front of it, her breath catching. Mr. Cole’s office. The brass nameplate gleamed beneath the sterile fluorescent lights, as imposing as the man himself.

She shouldn’t be here. She knew she shouldn’t. ...