Chapter 60 Half
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Lucas's Perspective
Later that night, an almost reverential hush settled over the Lockwood mansion, draping every hallway and high-ceilinged room in a gentle, muted quiet. The kind of silence that falls only after the last clatter of plates and laughter has faded, when footfalls become measured and voices lower, as if the walls themselves are eager for a peaceful night.
Dinner had unfolded just as I'd subtly expected from the Lockwoods: an exercise in etiquette and understated excess. We'd moved from salad to hors d'oeuvres, from a bowl of fragrant soup to the main courses, everything served on heavy porcelain with a brisk professionalism that seemed both old-fashioned and comforting. There were three kinds of bread for what was, frankly, not enough butter, and five meticulously-planned courses, each introduced by Susan with a gentle gesture and the softest smile. Four different wines were offered between the meal's stages, though Susan herself barely touched anything beyond a diluted cranberry spritzer, her attention more on my plate—asking with her eyes if I liked the grilled salmon, making notes when I lingered a moment too long over the spring peas. Her affection was quiet but relentless.
Jenny, thankfully, brought color to the meal. She filled the space between forkfuls and conversation with animated stories from her day, her schoolfriends' minor dramas, the million energetic observations of a teenager who sees everything at once. Her voice, full of sunshine and the slightly exasperated joy of having something new to relay, often brought reluctant smiles to Susan, and—and a few chuckles from me.
Now, I was back in my room, lounging in the cushioned chair by the window, legs stretched, a book open but unread in my lap. The quiet hum of the estate blended with the low night sounds outside.
That calm didn't last.
The door creaked open without a knock, and Jenny strode in, already talking. "Okay, so—what did you think? First day at Beacon Hills High?" She flopped dramatically onto the edge of my bed, grinning expectantly.
I glanced over, shrugged. "It's just like any other high school."
Jenny's grin dimmed. "Seriously? That's it?" She pouted, arms crossed like she'd just been told her favorite show was canceled.
I chuckled faintly. "What'd you expect? Fireworks?"
She huffed. "Maybe not fireworks, but something! We have locker drama and lacrosse tryouts and Mr. Jennings' conspiracy board in AP History. You've gotta admit that's not nothing."
I allowed a small smirk. "I'll give you the conspiracy board. That thing… it's something else."
She perked up at that.
I closed the book, resting it on the side table. "Hey. You know a guy named Scott McCall? Or Stiles Stilinski?"
Jenny blinked, the names clearly foreign to her. "Nope. Never heard of either of them. And I would have remembered a guy named Stiles. Sounds like a cartoon raccoon."
I nodded slowly. "Figured."
"Why?" she asked. "Friends from your old school?"
"Something like that," I said, noncommittal.
"Should I keep an ear out?" she asked.
I gave a half-smile. "Don't worry about it."
Jenny shifted topics easily, undeterred. "What about Malia?" she asked, clearly still fishing for gossip.
I raised a brow. "What about her?"
She shrugged. "You sat next to her, didn't you?"
"Yeah."
"Well," Jenny said, adjusting her posture like she was preparing to deliver classified intel, "she was homeschooled until this year. Like you. Except people don't really talk to her much. Kind of a loner."
I stayed silent, but not because I didn't have thoughts.
She added. "Susan's friends with Laura Hale—they go way back. Like, before everything went sideways about six years ago. But the Hales keep to themselves these days. Ever since..."
"The accident," I said quietly.
Jenny nodded.
I didn't ask more. I already knew more than most people in town did. And the truth was worse than whatever the papers printed.
She paused, head tilting with that glint like she was about to drop a particularly juicy bit of gossip. "Did you hear about the wild animal?"
I blinked. "Animal?"
She scooted closer, eyes wide. "Someone reported a huge wild animal running around the woods near the edge of town a few days ago. The Sheriff's Department went looking and found a deer. But not just a deer." She leaned in like she was sharing a ghost story. "Its entire lower half was missing."
"…Lower half?" I repeated, tone now flat.
Jenny nodded, thrilled. "Gone. Clean off. They think it's a mountain lion. But there's this whole betting pool at school. Most people think it's a cougar, some are betting on a freak wolf. I'm all in on a bear. Big one."
I stared at her.
She smiled. "Wanna place a bet?"
I shook my head slowly. "I think I'll pass."
Jenny stood up, sighing dramatically. "I thought having a nephew would be more fun." She made her way to the door, then turned back, a little grin tugging at her lips. "Try not to be boring tomorrow."
Then she vanished down the hallway.
The door clicked shut behind her.
My expression darkened.
A deer torn in half?
That wasn't a bear.
And no mountain lion did that either—not unless it was on some nightmare steroids.
I walked over to the window, sliding it open to let in the cool night air.
Something was out there.