She couldn't stay away. Not after what she'd seen.

Genesis didn't follow him this time. She went straight to his apartment building and waited on the chipped concrete steps outside, watching the sky bleed from orange to a bruised purple. She had to talk to him, face to face. She had to let him know he wasn't invisible.

The front door of the building creaked open, and a man stumbled out. He reeked of stale beer and sweat. Ray Donahue, a neighbor she'd seen coming and going. His eyes, small and bloodshot, landed on Genesis, and a greasy smile spread across his face.

"Well, hello there, little bird," he slurred, moving toward her. "Whatcha doin' all alone in the dark?"

Genesis stood up immediately, her skin crawling. "I'm waiting for someone."

"I'm someone," he said, closing the distance. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. "Why don't you wait with me? We could have some fun."

"Let go of me!" she yelled, yanking her arm, but he held fast. Panic, cold and sharp, seized her. He started to drag her toward the shadows of the building's entryway.

"I said, let go!"

"You heard her."

The voice was quiet, flat, and colder than the grave.

Both Genesis and Ray turned. Cas was standing at the edge of the street, bathed in the orange glow of a streetlight. The exhaustion was gone from his face, replaced by a look of terrifying, focused rage.

He moved with a sudden lurch. He didn't shout, didn't posture. He bent down, his hand closing around a loose brick from a crumbling retaining wall.

Before Ray could even process the threat, Cas was on him. He lunged, bringing the brick down with desperate force. It wasn't a calculated strike, but a raw explosion of rage, and it connected with a sickening crunch against the man's hand.

There was a wet crack, followed by a scream of agony from Ray.

His grip vanished. Genesis scrambled away, her heart trying to beat its way out of her chest.

Ray was on the ground, clutching his mangled hand, howling.

Cas stood over him, the brick still raised, his chest heaving. The look in his eyes was wild, feral. He was going to hit him again.

"Cas, no!" Genesis cried, rushing forward and grabbing his arm. "Stop! It's okay, he let me go!"

Her touch, her voice, seemed to break the spell. The madness in his eyes receded, replaced by a dawning horror. He looked from Ray, to the brick in his hand, to her.

The brick dropped to the pavement with a heavy thud.

"I'm calling the cops! You're dead, you psycho bastard!" Ray shrieked from the ground.

Cas didn't even look at him. He grabbed Genesis's hand-gently this time-and pulled her toward the apartment building. He half-dragged her up the rickety stairs to the second floor and fumbled with his keys, finally shoving the door open and pulling her inside.

He slammed the door shut, plunging them into the near-darkness of his small apartment.

It was the first time she had been inside his world. The room was sparse, almost empty. A mattress on the floor, a single wooden chair, a small stack of books. But it was spotlessly clean.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice shaky.

He let go of her hand as if it were on fire. He turned his back to her, his shoulders rigid. "You see?" he said, his voice a low, rough rasp. "This is what happens. This is me."

He spun around to face her, his face a mask of self-loathing. "I'm violent. I'm dangerous. I'm the trash that lives in a place where men like that feel brave."

A bitter, broken laugh escaped his lips. "Are you happy now? You got your little charity project to perform for you. You can see what a monster I am and go back to your perfect life."

He was pushing her away. He was showing her his ugliest parts, hoping it would be enough to make her run. He wasn't angry at her. He was terrified for her.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she shook her head, her voice firm. "I'm not scared of you, Cas."

His face crumpled in frustration. He strode to the door and wrenched it open, pointing out into the dark, grimy hallway.

"Get out," he snarled, the words tearing from his throat. "Go. Don't you get it? He's going to call the cops. They're going to come here. Because of you. So go. And don't ever come back."

---

He came to school the next day.

Genesis's breath caught in her throat when he walked into history class. He looked awful. The red mark on his cheek from his uncle's hand had bloomed into a dark, ugly bruise. He moved like every muscle in his body ached.

He ignored the stares and whispers, slumped into his seat in the back, and immediately put his head down on his desk.

Genesis felt a fragile mix of relief and dread. He was here. He hadn't given up completely. But his presence also made him a target.

As if on cue, Mrs. Gable swept into the room, her eyes immediately landing on the figure in the back corner. Her lips thinned into a razor line.

She walked down the aisle, her heels clicking ominously on the floor, and stopped right in front of his desk. She slapped a textbook down on the wood, the sharp crack making Cas flinch and lift his head.

"Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Mr. Riley. So good of you to grace us with your presence."

Cas just stared at her, his face a blank canvas.

Mrs. Gable crossed her arms, enjoying her audience. "You've missed an entire week of school, Riley. What's the plan? Falling behind seems to be a habit."

A wave of cruel snickers rippled through the classroom. Everyone knew the Rileys had no business, no money, nothing.

Genesis glared at the laughing students, a hot fury building in her chest.

The teacher wasn't finished. She leaned in, her voice dropping to a stage whisper that everyone could hear. "Some students have family legacies to uphold, Mr. Riley. Others seem determined to squander what little they have. Which one are you?"

The words were a stiletto, slid cleanly and quietly between his ribs.

Cas's body went ramrod straight. The blank look in his eyes was replaced by something dangerous. Genesis saw his hands clench into fists under the desk, his knuckles turning white. She was terrified he was going to explode, to do something that would get him expelled, to prove them all right about him.

She couldn't let that happen.

She stood up.

"Mrs. Gable."

Her voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the tense silence of the room like a knife.

Every head turned toward her. Cas looked at her, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Mrs. Gable looked genuinely shocked. "Miss Greene, this does not concern you. Sit down."

"I think it does," Genesis said, her gaze unwavering. "As a teacher, I don't believe it's appropriate for you to publicly humiliate a student about their family situation."

The color drained from Mrs. Gable's face, replaced by a blotchy, angry red. "I am disciplining a problem student! This is not a debate! You, and you, Riley. My office. Now."

Cas looked at Genesis one more time, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, before he pushed his chair back and walked out of the room.

Genesis followed without a moment's hesitation.

"Gen, don't," Chelsea hissed, grabbing her arm. "She'll make trouble for you!"

Genesis just shook her head and pulled her arm free.

In the cramped, stuffy office, Mrs. Gable unleashed her fury. She paced back and forth, calling Cas a delinquent, a disgrace to the school, a lost cause. She threatened suspension, expulsion, a permanent mark on his record.

And through it all, Cas just stood there, silent. A stone statue in the eye of a hurricane. He wasn't numb, Genesis realized. He was just... done. Done fighting, done explaining, done caring what people like her thought.

She took a deep breath. It was up to her.

She couldn't tell the truth. She couldn't talk about the construction site, or his aunt and uncle, or the man with the brick. That would strip him of the last bit of dignity he had.

She had to lie.

A bold, crazy, perfect lie began to form in her mind.

---

"Mrs. Gable," Genesis began, her voice calm and even, a stark contrast to the teacher's tirade. "The reason Cas has been absent is that he was involved in stopping a mugging outside of school."

The words hung in the air. Cas's head snapped toward her, his eyes wide with pure, unadulterated shock.

Mrs. Gable scoffed. "A mugging? Please. He's more likely to be the mugger than the hero."

"It's true," Genesis pressed on, her confidence growing. "He stepped in to help a freshman who was being harassed by a couple of older guys. He was trying to protect him." She gestured toward Cas's bruised face. "That's how he got hurt. In the fight."

The lie was seamless. It explained his injuries, his absence, everything.

Cas stared at her, his mouth slightly agape. He didn't confirm it, but more importantly, he didn't deny it. He let her speak for him.

Mrs. Gable was momentarily silenced, her suspicion warring with the possibility. "If that's true, who was the student he supposedly saved? What's his name?"

Genesis had anticipated this. "The freshman was terrified. He begged Cas not to report it, not to get his parents involved. Cas was respecting his wishes, keeping it quiet."

It was the perfect, unverifiable story. It painted Cas as noble and protective, not just of the victim's safety, but of his privacy.

Genesis pressed her advantage. "I would think," she said, her tone respectful but firm, "that when a student is injured while performing a heroic act, the school's response should be commendation, not punishment."

She had turned the tables completely. She had made Cas the hero and Mrs. Gable the villain who was persecuting him.

The teacher's face was a mottled mess of red and white. She was trapped. To punish Cas now, especially with Genesis Greene-daughter of one of the school's largest donors-as a witness, would be a disastrous move.

Genesis offered her a way out. "Of course, violence is never the answer. I'm sure Cas learned that getting hurt was a lesson in itself. I'm positive he'll find a better way to handle things in the future."

The silence in the office stretched on. Mrs. Gable looked from Genesis's earnest face to Cas's bruised, unreadable one. Finally, with a sigh that was pure theater, she relented.

"Fine," she snapped. "We'll let it go. This time. But one more misstep, Riley, and you're out. Do you understand?"

She waved a dismissive hand. "Get out of my office. Both of you."

They walked out into the empty hallway, the silence between them thick with unspoken words. Genesis could feel his eyes on her as they walked, a heavy, questioning gaze.

Just before they reached the classroom, Cas stopped.

Genesis stopped too, turning to face him.

He looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time. The ice in his eyes seemed to have thawed, just a little. His lips parted, as if to say something, then closed again. He struggled for a moment, the way a man who has forgotten how to speak might struggle to form a word.

Finally, he managed to push one out.

"Thanks."

It was the second time he'd said it, but this was different from the note. This was face to face. The word was quiet, rough around the edges, but it landed in Genesis's heart like a warm stone.

A real, genuine smile spread across her face. "You're welcome."

In her story, he was a hero. In reality, he was her hero.

He held her gaze for a second longer, and she saw it-a tiny crack in the frozen surface of his composure.

Then, without another word, he turned and walked back into the classroom. He didn't tell her to get lost. He didn't push her away. And for Genesis, that was everything.

---