Chapter 18: Three Ghosts in the Garden
The east courtyard was overgrown with glassweed and half-dead root vines, silent beneath the rusted remains of what once had been training halls.
Students didn't come here anymore. Not since the new wings were built.
The benches were cracked. The air smelled faintly of scorched soil. An old sigil, long-faded, was barely visible under the moss near the stone platform in the center — a lion, a flame, and a sword.
Peace through discipline.
Rook Vale sat on the steps, waiting.
The first to arrive was Tessa.
She stepped lightly through the trellis arch, arms folded across her chest, a dull silver ring in her hand — a relic from her mother, she once said. She always held it when she was uncertain.
"You called me here like it was urgent," she said, but not with anger.
He nodded. "Because it is."
Before she could ask what, Aya stepped in from the opposite path, hoodie low, boots crunching soft gravel.
"Oh," she said. "You didn't say we were having a group date."