THE WARD

After I leave Northenhay behind, I realise that the only place I can go is the cursed academy. I don't have a place I can call my own.

That has to change.

I realise that leaving the others behind it's was pretty shitty on my end but I just can't. Not anymore.

It takes a while for me to realise that I'm out in the open and nobody has attacked me just yet. Although Ava's words do ring inside my head as the memory rolls through.

Did he survive?

That's a jackpot question. Cockroaches can survive a nuclear bomb, so what I did might've only bruised that bastard's ego. I can't dismiss the possibility.

Slow and steady, I make my way back to the academy while in my head, I make all sorts of plans. As much as I want to experience student life, so far, I can confidently say that I'm not a big fan.

So on my way, I make a few stops in the town centre and procure myself some food and a freaking newspaper. Staring at the newspaper in my hand, dismay quickly settles in at the realisation that I feel old for someone my age and I should have done this sooner. I've had the means but life got in the way.

I know I keep saying that but my excuse is that there have been setbacks in my progress.

For once I don't rush. I don't feel the need to look over my shoulder; I just enjoy the budding trees, the daffodils flanking either side of the road, the cheerful chirp of the birds and the salty breeze coming from the coast.

Anything to keep my mind off Mason.

When I finally slip past the gates, I'm greeted with the same old, same old. As impressive as it is, it gets old pretty fast.

I don't bother lingering around and just make my way up to the loft, where I unpack everything, make myself some dinner and settle myself with the newspaper at the table.

It takes me a while but I find what I'm looking for. A house. I'm tired of making plans, and not following through.

I mark the ones that have caught my interest and move on to refining the business plans that sit discarded on the floor, slowly collecting dust.

Admittedly, growing up kind of sucks. I realise this when I start making a list of the things that I need to put everything in motion.

The house, the business, leaving the academy behind. We'll, not leaving for good, just moving out of the damn loft. I need something to keep me grounded and not lose myself completely in this mess that we have made of our lives.

Bad decisions. So many, ill-advised choices that I've lost count. But in hindsight, it got me where I am today, and I'm not sorry. I won't apologise for it.

They were my mistakes to make.

I spend the entire afternoon making draft after draft of my future business. It's not set in stone, but it will have to be something that can grow fast and put me on the map.

Alongside it, I've made a list of already existing businesses in Morston. But Morston is not my target. Just like Mason, the Quarter is something close to my heart. On that front, we are more alike than I thought.

Progress will be slow. It will take decades before it is finalised, but I intend to make the most of it before it becomes a primary location for another business owner. I know Mason will be among them and plans to make the most of the workforce available there.

It may be a little devilish to follow in his footsteps and do the same, but the man has a nose for business, and that fact is undeniable.

And so, slowly but surely, it begins to come to life. My passion for the Quarter and its people blended in with my business plan. I've always wanted to do more for those in need, and this is where I start. On my turf. Adopted turf, but still.

Fortunately for me, I have the funds, so I won't need to marry someone on their deathbed to get the money I need. So, on that front, I consider myself fortunate and also grateful to Anika and Hector, whoever they are. I'm still doubtful of their identities, but I'll just have to settle for what I can get on that front.

I've known them as mother and father, but looking back now that I know the truth, I can see the discrepancies. Anika was affectionate towards me but not in a motherly way, and Hector was kind and caring but in a mentor kind of way. I guess you don't know until someone shows you the difference.

A hollow knock on the door brings me back to the earthly plane, and I notice that the sun has long set and the moon is spilling its silvery light through the ceiling window in all its glory.

Rising from my seat, I open the hatch, and I'm greeted with a very drunken Laira.

She gives me a wobbly smile, " Aren't you-" She hiccups and sways on her feet," Invite me in?" She grins at me. It's idiotic and makes her look more unstable rather than drunk.

" Can you make it up on your or do I have to carry you up the steps," She giggles and shrugs

" Dunno," She hiccups again, and it makes me wonder how much they have had to drink. A fair bit, judging by the state of Laira but it was her birthday, so I let it go. Cause what else am I supposed to do? It's done.

With a sigh, I lower the ladder and climb down, pick up her tiny frame and hoist her over my shoulder whilst praying she doesn't vomit all over my back.

Thankfully she doesn't but she keeps hiccuping every time she tries to say something. I find it amusing, but I just don't have in me to enjoy the silliness of the moment.

Once we're up in the loft, I drop her on the bed, knowing that we will have to share the bed and I'll have to breathe in the alcohol fumes she's ingested. She will hear all about it in the morning when her head is splitting.

Now that makes me properly giddy.

She flopps on the bed and promptly begins to snore loud enough to wake the dead.

Not sleeping tonight either by the looks of it.

I stopped trying altogether a while ago and made my peace with it. Maybe my kind doesn't sleep much.