The corridor near the office was empty at that time of the day, the day of the exams. Not many people, except me or Marshall, had something to do at this very important moment. Well, he was having trouble with math, while my already complicated life was made more difficult by the additional paperwork generated by the fact of my homeschooling. The kind of paperwork that I had to print out, give to Vincent to sign, and then bring to the school office.

In general, my legal guardian had a very funny attitude towards all the paperwork that I hand him. He, a workaholic, had to take time out from his busy schedule to read some school crap instead of focusing on serious, multi-million dollar contracts. I laughed at my oldest brother as he was rolling his eyes over this nonsense.

So I was walking along this corridor, getting closer and closer to my goal, glancing at my watch to control how much time I had before the tests started, when someone suddenly came out from behind the corner. One look in the boy's direction and I was sure I had never seen him before, but at the same time I noticed something familiar about him, so the first thing that came to mind was that I must have associated him from here. From school, from the cafeteria maybe. He was older, no doubt about it, so maybe he was some acquaintance of the twins?

He was approaching with slow steps, and each step was accompanied by a quiet knocking sound, because he was supporting himself on a crutch (a little bit unskillfully). I was thrown off my guard by his gaze, which penetrated me creepily. It expressed neither hostility nor friendship, but such a strange intrusiveness, as if the guy saw me for the first time and immediately analyzed something in his head, like calculated something.

People at school often stare at me. They think they are doing it discreetly, but I see it and only sigh inside me, and try to ignore it, although in this case the boy without any doubt was not trying to be discreet even a bit.

He was dressed in uniform, which misguidedly reassured me at first. I should have known right away that something was wrong, if only by how disastrously it lay on him. The pant legs seemed a bit too long, and along with the jacket, they hung oddly on him. It was definitely suspicious, as some of the students of this private establishment might be sloppy, but surely the school made sure that the clothes they bought were the right size and fit them like a glove. After all, their students are their showcases, as the principal often proudly proclaimed.

On closer examination, the boy seemed to be too old for high school. He could be squeezed into the last class, but he more looked as if he entered the stage of university student already some time ago. His face, although quite handsome, lacked the typical for teenagers, youthful freshness. His eyes were slightly darkened and his cheeks were sunken. His dark hair lacked luster. It was very disheveled and looked as if its owner had missed two hairdressing appointments. His eyes opened wide and their dark irises contrasted strongly with the whites of his eyeballs.

The closer he got, the less comfortable I felt, although deep down I was convinced that I was reacting this way because I was oversensitive and, to top it all off, already fearful by nature.

Well, unfortunately, this time my defense mechanism turned out to be right.

"Monet."

I don't know why, but for a while my brain had a hard time matching that hoarse voice with the figure of the boy heading towards me, even though he was the only person here. The sounds of students talking to each other in the next corridor should have been reassuring, because it meant I wasn't alone, but somehow it couldn't quite calm me down.

I stopped and glared at the stranger, cautiously, like a shy squirrel. He had such a suspicious aura that the thought even crossed my mind to leave this secretariat and run away to people as soon as possible. I refrained, which I regretted in a moment.

"Here she is," he muttered to himself, tasking me with his eyes from head to toe, until finally they stopped on my face.

There has been a definite overabundance of people in my life who know me, and of whom I myself have not heard a word. Sometimes it's funny, sometimes annoying. Sometimes tiring. And sometimes still very unsettling. That's what I felt now – anxiety. So I moved and passed the man without a word, taking care to stay out of his reach as far as the width of the hallway allowed.

Keep your head up and look ahead, Hailie. Ignore him, just go to the office.

"You're the one who's been dating my brother?"

I stopped again.

I turned slowly to look at the stranger, on whose face was now painted a smile that was hard to identify. I squinted my eyes. It was clear that I immediately thought of Leo, as he was the guy with who I was closest to "dating" with. During our long conversations, however, we had always nimbly maneuvered around the subject of his brother so as not to bring it up too much. It was a delicate matter, and the fact that he went into debt to my brothers only added fuel to the fire.

But, but, was it really him? With furrowed brows I looked at his straight nose, sunken cheeks and dark hair. Some sort of small, thin, yet quite deep scar crossed his right brow. He was unhealthily thin, thinner than Leo. His shirt came out of his pants. His tie hung around his neck. Shane and Tony did that sometimes, too. Not today, however, because today was the exam day and everyone had to look impeccable.

In fact, I could count very few similarities to Leo in his picture.

"Ask your brother," I finally said, making sure that my voice wasn't trembling.

"Yeah, the problem is I won't believe him," he answered seriously, then laughed and shook his head. "No way in hell am I going to believe that he raced off the Monet's sister, ya know. Not an option," the guy blinked. It wasn't a sign of affection, though, but a tic, as I discovered after a moment when he blinked again.

I pressed my lips together.

"He didn't race me off. We are friends."

"Okay, sure," he waved his hand and rocked back, resting his whole body on the crutch. The sleeve of his uniform overlapped almost to his toes. I stared at the loose cuff and furrowed my brow.

"Why are you wearing a uniform? And what are you actually doing here? You don't go to this school."

Leo's brother met my suspicious gaze with another wave of sulky amusement.

"Of course I don't. I'd rather shoot myself in the head than study among such snobs."

I could have said something unkind, but I shut up. Instead, I put my hands on my chest and began to slowly prepare to leave.

"Well then, I don't know what you're even doing here."

A smile, of a slightly different type from before, dawned on my interlocutor's face. A sly one.

"I came for you, Monet."

A girl distracted us as she appeared out of nowhere and ran to the office, which is where I myself should have entered long ago. However, the door quickly closed behind her and we were left alone again. I looked at my friend's brother again, this time feeling a tiny and unpleasant tingle under my skin.

"I don't have time for this. I have an exam soon. I have to go," I announced firmly and took a step back, ready to turn on my heel.

"Aren't you going to help Leo?"

I slowly took a small breath.

"What?"

"He's in trouble, ya know," he blinked again, and I know it wasn't his fault, but it was really starting to annoy me. Then he looked around. "Have you seen him around here anywhere, by the way? Today?"

I haven't. Instead of admitting it, I just stared at him with caution.

"I'll take silence for no."

"So what. We don't see each other often."

"But what, he wouldn't wish you luck? Today, before the exam? Plus, it'd be for him a chance to see you, Monet, for the first time in a long time."

"What's your point? What do you mean?" I snarled. I was too easily upset.

"He's not here because he got into trouble, ya know. I came for you to help him, ya know."

"How am I supposed to help him?" I asked distrustfully. I was a little worried, I won't say that I wasn't, but at the same time I was getting nervous at this hedging.

"You have to come with me, Monet. If he sees you, he'll come to his senses."

"What?" I almost laughed. "I don't know you, how do you figure that? I don't know any specifics, Leo hasn't contacted me, and besides, I have an exam coming up. I can't just go somewhere with you."

"I'm Ryder, ya know Leo's brother," he introduced himself, and I immediately disliked his condescending tone. "And Leo hasn't been in touch because he's got some trouble he's gotten himself into that he won't admit to, especially in front of you, Monet. If you don't help him, he'll be done for, ya know. Isn't that more important than the exam?"

"What kind of trouble is this?" I hissed, almost demanding an answer.

"Too much talk, ya know," Ryder waved his hand. "Come with me, I'll tell you everything on the way. There's no time, Monet."

"No, no, no. Wait," I stopped him. What was he thinking? "I can't just go with you. If Leo's in trouble, I can help him in other ways. Wait, wait! My brothers are at school, I'll call and tell them what's going on, they'll do something, I'm sure."

Ryder laughed dismissively.

"Monet's brothers will do something? Sure. The Monet Brothers only care about their own asses, ya know," he shook his head, still leaning oddly on the crutch. "Nah, Monet, this is all about you being the one to help Leo. You're the one he's supposed to see. You're the only one who can save him."

Now I was the one shaking my head, very much overwhelmed by Ryder's words. What was going on, what had Leo gotten himself into?

"I'll call Shane, he'll be here soon," I continued, ignoring his words. I took out my phone and unlocked it. I wasn't going to get into anything without my brothers knowing, and I trusted that if anything happened, they would solve literally any problem.

Ryder moved closer to me, which surprised me because he did it practically silently while I stared at my cell phone screen. Suddenly he wasn't making any noise with the crutch because, as it turned out, he apparently didn't actually need it to move at all.

"Come with me," he whispered, leaning over me. His person surrounded me and took away valuable personal space. He was like a cloak that suddenly fell over my hair and shoulders and then began to shrink, restricting my freedom. Ryder was tilting his head and thus had a great view of the top of my own. I could smell his breath. I wouldn't describe his scent as pleasant either. He lifted his hand, and before he could reach behind his bosom, I noticed the letters he had tattooed on his fingers, which were difficult to read not only because of the cursive font but also because they were obviously sloppy.

"Move away," I hissed, holding my breath and lowering the phone slightly.

"You will come with me," he continued, as if he hadn't heard me, and then he opened the jacket of his uniform, where on the inside he had a gun, whose warning flash blinded me for a split second. My neck hurt as my head jerked upwards. I stared dazedly into Ryder's face, not believing what he had just presented before me.

To be clear, it wasn't the sight of the weapon that impressed me, but the circumstances under which I had the unpleasantness of seeing it. I don't think even my brothers, the great, freaking, shooters, walk around armed in the damn school. School! With kids in the hallways!

"What, are you out of your mind, Monet?" Ryder snorted and blinked. "Just kidding. I know you haven't. In your family, you probably swallow guns like this for breakfast. Along with a fucking coffee and a bagel."

"You're crazy," I snarled, glaring at him. "What do you think your plan is?" I looked around the empty hallway first before adding: "Are you going to shoot me, genius?"

"Yeah, and what else. What am I supposed to do with a dead Hailie Monet? Hm?" With the hand he'd used to tilt back his jacket, he now knocked his forehead. And he blinked. "Use your head, that would just be an unnecessary problem."

"Then why are you showing me that gun!"

Ryder's lips formed into a small, slightly mischievous smile, but his eyes remained oddly cool. Not like Vincent's though. The chill hiding in the dark irises of the guy standing right in front of me proved that it wasn't the eternal heat at all that should be associated with the depths of hell.

"I'm not going to shoot you, Monet, but if you don't come with me, I'm going to make a holy stink here like you fucking never saw even in GTA."

At that moment, I hadn't even noted that he was comparing reality to some violent computer game, and yet I understood the message of his words perfectly and even felt myself getting pale.

Just then, the girl who had passed us a few moments ago came out of the office. She had her hair gathered back with a headband, rectangular glasses on the nose, and her cheeks were still red from the earlier run. She was no longer in a hurry, but walked slowly through the corridor, probably deliberately not making eye contact with any of us.

At the sight of her, I immediately swallowed my saliva and shifted my gaze to Ryder, who blinked twice in a row, still with that diabolical grin glued to his face, then whispered to me:

"She could be first. Pow and pow. Aaaand she's gone. You think I'd hit her with one...."

"Stop it, stop it!" I replied, and my voice broke, making it sound weak, though it was so desperate that a girl passing us heard it and gave me a puzzled look.

Ryder blinked at her, probably deliberately this time, and pointed at me with his head.

"Pre-exam stress, ya know," he chuckled as if he was an ordinary, witty guy and not some fucking psychopath.

The girl twisted her lips in a weird smile, but she didn't stop and I was relieved when she disappeared behind the corner.

"See? Loosey-goosey, Monet. I'm not going to do anything to anyone. You just have to listen to me. Will you listen to me? You need to know that I don't have much to lose."

Increasingly panicked, I nodded my head. I was trying, really, trying with all my might to figure out how to stop Ryder. If only I could contact the twins somehow! Or at least make eye contact with Mona. But what good would that do? I couldn't think about saving myself if the lives of others were at stake, who might lose them because I disobeyed a few stupid orders.

"Nice," Leo's brother said, straightening up a bit and leaning back on the crutch with all his weight. He looked around indicatively, then blinked at me: "Now give me the phone."

I looked at his spread fingers, which he stretched towards me.

"Come on," he urged me, moving them. "Quickly, Monet, there is no time."

I raised my trembling hand and gave him the phone, being careful not to accidentally touch his skin.

"The jewelry, too."

"What for?"

"You're testing my patience, Monet. Give me everything you have, ya know, or you know what will happen."

"Fine," I burbled, seeing him move his hand dangerously close to where he held the gun. For a moment, I hoped that he was just robbing me in the simplest way, and, while I felt bad about giving away the gift I got from my dad, I cared more about preserving my life, so the first thing I did was get down to the business of sluggishly opening the clasp of the watch I'd received as a birthday present from my parent.

I begrudgingly handed it to Ryder, then pulled the tiny earrings from my ears.

"Is that all? You don't have anything else? No pendants, no brooches?" he asked, grabbing my wrist and then the other to see for himself. I took a step back with indignation when he put his finger behind the collar of my shirt, looking for traces of a necklace there.

"It's all!" I hissed.

"That's great, Monet. Now show me your pockets."

Without a word, I turned them inside out. Apart from the piece of paper I was carrying to the secretary's office, they were empty. I was perfectly vulnerable.

Then a satisfied Ryder jerked his head toward the hallway, gesturing that it was time to move.

"Just remember, Monet," he began, and waved a finger warningly right in front of my nose. "No funny business, understand? One wrong look and you'll be responsible for a massacre that will be talked about in the media for the next year."

"I understood," I hissed with venom, although deep inside the fear was paralyzing me more and more. And so it was a wonder that I was able to take reasonably steady steps at all. I walked close to Ryder, slightly ahead, and the closer we got to the first crowded corridor, the harder I found it to breathe. I began to sweat, and it was by no means because of the important exams. It quickly became clear to me that I would not sit for them today. Maybe even never, depending on the exact plan this guy had for me.

The voices of the students blended together. At one point they were completely drowned out by a noise that appeared in my ears out of nowhere. Such an idle one, with the addition of an unbearable squeak, as if I had just been deafened by a bomb blast, and I even glanced at Ryder's hands to be sure that he hadn't done anything and it was simply my body dealing in its own way with the situation I had just found myself in.

Vincent was right. He should have locked me in the basement. And not let me go to school, not even for an exam. He didn't want it, but it was the kind of test that no one would let me take in my own home. And I wanted so badly to be here today. I was more than prepared and on top of that I wanted to see Mona and poke my nose out of the Monet mansion at all. For me, coming to this exam was the highlight of the month. Well, now I got it. An adventure.

"Go toward the side exit," Ryder whispered in my ear, and when I turned to him, he blinked. "Calm down, Monet, no worries. I'll be right behind you."

Then he stood on his tiptoes, once again proving how unnecessary his crutche really was. It just hovered at his elbow as he reached up. He held my belongings in his hand and dropped them imperceptibly on one of the school lockers, whole rows of which stood stacked along the corridor. He used the sleeve of his uniform to gather a cloud of dust from its surface, which he then quickly shook off. No one would find them there for a long time. Maybe Sonny or my brothers will track them by the transmitter on the phone, but that's not until after the exam...

"Don't look back," Ryder growled quietly as I moved forward along the corridor, throwing nervous smiles to some of the friends I passed and occasionally turning my head to make sure the guy was still following me. He was meticulously maintaining his role as an invalid, for he had a limp and even the expression on his face was kind of weary.

After that I just walked straight ahead and tried to avoid the stares of others. It was difficult, because apparently during my absence here a lot of gossip had been created about me and now people were very interested in their object, that is me. And I had only one thought in my head: they all might die if I don't get a grip on myself and play it right.

I envied them, and they were biting their lips because their biggest stress at that moment was the exam. What I would give to just have that problem.