Chapter 62: Making a Sound

It wasn’t long before another of Milo’s predictions proved accurate.

At 14:00 by a clock he hadn’t tampered with, Milo stood before Henry’s desk. Layla was behind him, Eve’s green hair sticking out among the girls to his left.

"I warned you not to lose anything," Henry muttered. "But the omens didn’t get lost. You just took them. One of you."

With Layla behind him, Milo spread out his palms.

"I was studying. Layla can confirm. Studying, after leaving Eve alone to handle the transport."

"We were studying, sir," she confirmed. "We started at maybe... 12:50? If not earlier."

"And Eve?" The instructor turned to the group of girls. "When did she come back? Before that? After?"

"Like... we weren’t watching the clock," one of the girls said, "but around 13:00."

Eve’s trembling hands shot to her sides, palms flat against her thighs.

"S-Sir, no. That’s not what happened. Milo, you know it too. After I-I got scared I wasn’t gonna do well, I... O-Okay, I just—I let you do it! You said I could go if I lent you my phone. How can you not remember?"

Was she really so stupidly innocent as to believe Milo was merely misremembering things?

Witnessing her awkward smile falter almost raised the corners of his own lips.

Had she held back, uttering one fewer disgusting in her life, she would not have to sweat this out with the instructor and her alleged friends for an audience.

"You gave him your phone?" one of the girls asked.

"Yes, Milo, you wanted—"

"I don’t have a phone on me," Milo said, glancing at Layla. "I never asked."

"Why are you lying about this...?"

Thud!

"Enough." Henry slammed a palm on the table, then patted the wood as though apologizing for his harshness. "The keys were found on the tray. Please, please tell me which of you took the omens."

Eve opened her mouth, but said nothing.

Henry looked from her to Milo, who waited as though he, too, would like to hear her answer.

"Okay. Your belongings, please." The instructor beckoned for their backpacks. "I’m sorry you’re forcing me to do this."

With a swing of his arm, Milo threw his backpack onto the desk. It skidded across the wood and stopped at Henry’s palms.

While the instructor rummaged through it, Eve shuffled closer and lowered her own bag onto the corner.

Out came Milo’s notebook. Henry thumbed through the pages, which fanned unevenly where the missing section had thinned the front.

Money was going toward greater things now. A few dirtied sheets hadn’t been reason enough to replace the whole notebook.

Satisfied with Milo’s belongings, Henry swept them back into the bag and reached for Eve’s.

A tilt of her backpack sent the phone tumbling out.

His fingers bunched the strap as everyone fell quiet.

"Eve—"

An omen ticked out and stopped right next to the phone.

THUD!

Henry slammed his fist down, harder this time.

Without an apologetic pat for the desk this time, he snatched up both pieces of evidence.

"B-But, sir, I really—!"

"Oh my god, it was actually obvious."

The girls rolled their eyes. Though they stayed facing Eve, their feet had angled away.

"Why would you not tell us you lent him your phone?"

"Hmph," another girl put in.

Eve’s shoulders sagged, her panicked expression shrinking into a small frown as she looked from the phone to the omen. When her gaze returned to Milo, she no longer seemed to be waiting for him to remember.

"It was a pinky promise," she managed.

"Eve, where are the rest of the omens?" Veins bulged along Henry’s arms as he squeezed the crystal. "There were over thirty stolen."

Over thirty, huh? But Milo had only eaten twenty-eight, and the twenty-ninth was now being crushed in the instructor’s fist. Either Henry was exaggerating for dramatic effect, or he’d taken some of the amber for himself too.

"I don’t know."

"Where are they?"

"I don’t know."

"Do you know what’s going to happen if you do not tell me?"

"I don’t know."

Henry released the phone and crystal so abruptly that their clatter startled Eve’s shoulders back up to her ears.

"Go to the principal’s office. I don’t have time for this."

Before turning away for his coat, he waved the others away.

"The rest of you—you’re dismissed. You may go."

...

By the time Milo and Layla parted on the platform, the day was nearly over.

For a week she had insisted on coming to his flat and staying a little longer. Today, he was surprised to see her let him leave without an argument.

Perhaps the exams had become more urgent than looking after him.

Speaking of.

Their timetable crinkled in his fist, and he smoothed it on his jacket as he took the road to his block.

There, he pivoted left for the central park instead.

Passing a newsstand in front of the town hall, he grabbed a journal on the region’s geographical layout and its municipalities.

Milo sat down on a bench next to a patch of gravel.

Despite Still Step, the amber had cracked under his sole on the day of Aldous’ Turning.

When no one was looking, he scrambled to his knees and scooped the pebbles into his backpack.

Like nothing had taken place, his silent walk home brought him to a door he still hadn’t repaired, a couch serving in its place.

It took him about a minute to enter.

He placed his backpack on the cushions and took a handful of gravel.

From the crystal’s crack, it followed there was a workaround for not being able to toggle the Mercy off directly.

After unlacing his shoes, he tipped a few pebbles into each and worked his feet back in.

Say an instructor ordered him to jump with everyone watching...

...swish...shush.

Fine, there was no proper thud, but at least the stones rustled when he landed.

Milo took a few steps to hear it again.

Swish-shush.

It was an improvement on running through the fields without making a sound.

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⋆˚࿔ Coming right up: "Warden (Part 1)" ... ⤵︎ [!]