Chapter 114: Foolishness

Chapter 114: Chapter 114: Foolishness

Cyrus met the strange looks around him without changing expression.

He looked at Owen and asked evenly, "So what you are saying is that either Faye or I tampered with the money?"

"That is not exactly what we mean," Owen said. He rubbed the back of his head, irritation beginning to show in the motion. "We are asking about what happened first. Maybe there was something during the handoff that nobody noticed."

Before Cyrus could answer, Iris spoke from behind him.

"There may still be some misunderstanding."

Cyrus turned his attention toward her.

"What kind of misunderstanding?"

With only a few questions, he had pulled the suspicion away from Faye and onto himself. His voice remained calm, almost unnervingly so. It sounded like the confidence of someone who knew there was no real evidence against him, but it could just as easily have been the composure of someone genuinely innocent.

Owen could not tell which.

The surrounding attention did not bother Cyrus. He seemed to remember something and looked directly at Iris.

"There should be security cameras in the hallway and inside the classroom."

"I know."

Iris lowered her eyes and gave a slight nod. She did not say anything else. Instead, she returned to her seat as though the conversation had already reached its limit.

Owen looked at Iris, then back at Cyrus.

Something complicated entered his expression. In the end, he also chose not to continue and went back to his desk.

Only a few students had not yet arrived. Most of the class already knew what had happened, or at least the version that had begun circulating before Cyrus walked in.

The entire situation had appeared out of nowhere.

Cyrus had expected to spend Monday checking whether his memories had changed and finding a chance to speak with Audra. He had not expected to walk into a classroom where half the students were silently deciding whether he and Faye were thieves.

Faye, who had remained quiet throughout the questioning, turned slightly in her seat and looked at him.

"I am all right," she said softly.

"This is not something you should simply be all right with."

Cyrus shook his head.

His voice was not loud, but it carried clearly enough through the corner of the classroom.

"I believe you, Faye. Please believe me too."

"I believe you."

Faye nodded firmly.

Her voice was quiet, but there was no hesitation in it.

Cyrus gave her a small nod in return.

Owen, who had already sat down nearby, noticed the exchange. The conflict in his expression deepened, though no one was paying attention to him now.

A few minutes remained before class began.

Cyrus sat down and silently reviewed everything that had happened during the final shift.

One thing was certain.

When he and Faye handed over the cash box, the amount inside had been correct.

He remembered Faye counting it. He remembered checking it himself. He remembered the notes being separated and the coins gathered beneath them. There had been no shortage at that point.

Whatever had happened must have happened afterward.

The person who received the cash box from them had been Iris.

Did that mean Iris had done something?

Why would she?

Cyrus could not find a sensible reason.

His older memories might be fading, but that did not mean he had suddenly lost the ability to trust an event from two days ago. The ring had not erased Saturday. He knew exactly what he and Faye had done.

While he continued thinking, Cyrus noticed someone across the room watching the corner.

Audra sat with her face turned slightly to the side. Her profile remained composed, but her attention was clearly on him and Faye.

The moment Cyrus looked over, Audra withdrew her gaze.

He still needed to ask her about the glamourkin ring.

That problem could not be delayed forever.

Before Cyrus could think any further, Ms. Hart entered the classroom a few minutes before the bell. Her gaze moved across the room and paused, almost imperceptibly, near the corner where Cyrus and Faye sat.

Cyrus noticed.

The bell rang soon afterward.

Ms. Hart began the morning homeroom period with a long review of the Fall Festival. She praised the class for cooperating, mentioned the strong attendance at the haunted house, and reminded everyone that the cleanup had not been completely finished until Sunday.

Her speech continued until the final minutes of homeroom.

Then her tone changed.

"I know that some students may lose sight of themselves when faced with certain temptations," she said, her voice firm and authoritative. "But as long as a person turns back in time, it is not too late to correct a mistake."

As she spoke, Ms. Hart made deliberate eye contact with different students around the room.

Her gaze lingered slightly longer near the corner.

Several classmates followed it.

A few heads turned.

Cyrus did not rush to defend himself. There was no point arguing against an accusation that nobody had stated directly. Standing up now would only make it seem as though he had recognized himself in the warning.

Faye remained seated in front of him with her back straight.

She did not appear affected.

If anything, she straightened a little more, subtly shifting her body as though she could block some of the attention directed toward Cyrus.

Prejudice existed everywhere.

Cyrus had already learned that much.

People liked conclusions that required no effort. A quiet student with few friends was suspicious. A transfer student with no family around was suspicious. Two students who had handled money last were more convenient suspects than anyone who had access afterward.

By the time homeroom ended, the atmosphere had become heavier.

Cyrus was about to get up and ask Ms. Hart to review the security footage when Owen suddenly called after him.

"Cyrus, do you want to go buy some water?"

Cyrus looked at him.

Owen clearly had something he wanted to say.

"All right."

Although it was possible Owen had arranged the whole situation, Cyrus still found that unlikely.

There was no complicated reason.

Owen’s eyes were too straightforward.

A person could lie with words, but Owen carried confusion too openly. He looked less like someone hiding a plan and more like someone who had walked into a problem and realized too late that he had made it worse.

They left the classroom together.

Neither spoke on the way to the vending machines. Each bought a bottle of water, and Owen led Cyrus toward an outdoor stairwell where few students passed between classes.

The morning air was cool.

Owen stood near the railing without opening his drink. His expression remained complicated, as if he were still arranging the words in his head.

Finally, he spoke.

"I want to apologize to you on Iris’s behalf."

He stopped and corrected himself.

"I mean, on behalf of Iris Wexley."

"Why?"

"When Ms. Hart spoke with us about the missing money, she did not plan to bring it up in front of the class."

"All right."

"Iris was probably anxious. She wanted to ask while there were not many people in the room."

"And then?"

"And then it turned into this." Owen glanced away. "Now the atmosphere toward you and Faye is not exactly friendly."

"Did you not think to stop her?"

"I did not react fast enough."

Owen lowered his head, looking genuinely embarrassed.

Cyrus studied the crown of his head for a moment.

A trace of amusement entered his voice.

"You suspected me too, did you not?"

"I did not."

"You do not need to explain. I understand."

Cyrus said it generously.

Internally, he considered whether he should punch Owen.

The missing amount was only several hundred dollars. Cyrus had certainly noticed the money. He might even have entertained one brief, private thought about how useful it would be.

Thinking was not stealing.

Since entering human society, he had followed its basic rules. He did not steal, and he did not rob people. Breaking those rules would only make his freedom harder to keep.

Faye required even less consideration. She had been the one who insisted on checking the amount because she cared about what it represented for the class. Suspecting her made no sense.

Still, punching Owen would weaken Cyrus’s position.

He decided against it.

A faint breeze passed through the stairwell and stirred the hair beside Cyrus’s face. The movement briefly exposed the earring he rarely showed, catching a small flash of light.

Owen stared for a second, then seemed to make a decision.

"In any case, I will speak with Ms. Hart and clear this up."

Cyrus looked at him.

"You want to take the blame for me?"

Owen fell silent.

His intention had been seen through too quickly.

"I do not think you are the kind of person who would do something like that," Owen said at last. "Faye is not either."

"That does not mean you should confess to something you did not do."

"I know."

"Then why?"

Owen tightened his grip on the water bottle.

"I do not want to stand around and watch people I know keep running into strange problems while I cannot do anything."

Cyrus frowned slightly.

"What does that mean?"

"I do not know."

Owen scratched his head again, looking just as confused by his own answer.

"Some people I become friends with always seem to run into something strange right when we are starting to get close."

Cyrus stared at him.

That explained more than Owen probably realized.

Owen was well liked in class. He could talk to almost anyone and rarely caused conflict, yet Cyrus had never seen him with a particularly close friend.

Apparently, becoming Owen’s friend came with a curse.

Cyrus was about to respond when he suddenly felt someone watching them.

He turned toward the far end of the walkway.

All he saw was a retreating figure turning the corner.

"Did something happen?" Owen asked.

"No. I thought I saw someone I knew."

Cyrus had recognized the back.

He answered casually, but his eyes narrowed beneath the hair covering them.

The direction of the gaze, the timing of the classroom accusation, Iris’s strange behavior, and Owen’s comment about his friendships began fitting together in a way Cyrus had not considered before.

He might understand what was happening now.

Cyrus turned back toward Owen.

"Are you free at lunch?"

Owen looked surprised.

"I should be."

"There is something I want to confirm."