The summer warmth had begun to soften into the first touches of autumn, the leaves along Halberd Academy's wide stone paths blushing at the edges, golden and rust. The soft wind carried a hush with it, like the school itself had grown quieter. Or maybe, it just felt that way.
Emma sat beneath the old elm tree near the East Courtyard, legs crossed, a journal open on her lap. The tree had always been a quiet place, a shared secret among the few who craved stillness in a school filled with motion. She tapped her pen against her chin before writing another line of poetry though her heart wasn't in it.
Kate arrived with two steaming cups of coffee, settling beside her with a tired sigh. Her hair was up in a careless twist, and despite her usual sharpness, there was a visible sag in her posture. She handed Emma a cup without a word.
"Thanks," Emma said, brushing her fingertips along the warm ceramic.
Kate didn't respond right away. She simply sipped and stared at the wind stirring the canopy above.
Emma turned to her, cautious. "Have you seen Michael?"
Kate flinched slightly. That was all the answer Emma needed.
"He hasn't been in class," she continued. "Or at the cafeteria. And I asked around his dorm's empty half the time."
"I know," Kate said finally. "I've tried reaching him. Texts, calls. Nothing."
"It's not like him. Even when he's moody or hiding, he always answers you."
Kate nodded. Her voice was low, but firm. "I'm starting to think it's not just him being reclusive."
Emma looked away, biting her lip. The absence felt too loud. Ever since Andrew left, something had shifted. Their group once tightly knit, sarcastic, loving, chaotic had threads that were fraying at the edges.
"Do you think it has to do with what Andrew was caught up in?" Emma asked suddenly.
Kate looked down into her coffee. "I don't know. He never told me everything. Just hints. Pieces."
"Me neither," Emma said, her voice softer now. "But whatever it was, it wasn't just a vacation."
They sat in silence for a while. The breeze moved again, scattering early leaves around their feet. A pair of students passed by, laughing too loudly, breaking the quiet.
"Do you miss him?" Kate asked abruptly.
Emma looked at her, startled. "Andrew?"
Kate nodded.
Emma let out a long breath. "I do. But I think you miss him more."
Kate's lips curved, not quite a smile, not quite a frown. "Yeah. I do."
Emma studied her friend, watching the subtle shifts in her expression. "You like him, don't you?"
Kate didn't answer. She stared up at the trees instead.
Emma didn't press. The truth was already written in her silence.
Later that evening, they gathered in the common room of their shared dorm. The table was scattered with textbooks, laptops, and notes for the upcoming final year. Neither of them was really studying. They were pretending. Holding onto routine like it was a lifeline.
Kate tossed her pencil onto the table. "If Michael doesn't show up by the weekend, I'm going to check his place."
Emma glanced at her. "You think something's wrong? Really wrong?"
Kate's jaw clenched. "I think if Andrew were here, he'd already be looking."
Emma leaned back in her chair. "Do you think he'll come back?"
Kate didn't respond.
Because neither of them knew.
Because the air at Halberd had never felt more uncertain.
And in the absence of answers, all they could do was wait.
Hope.
And prepare for whatever their final year might bring.
Even if the ones they cared about most might not be there to see it.