Thorn's dorm had never been cleaner.
Valarie noticed immediately, but she didn't comment, and that was almost worse than if she had.
"Mr. and Mrs. Rosales!" Pippa's voice echoed from the other side of the room. She scrambled to her desk to grab her glasses, sliding them back into place on her nose before she greeted Thorn's parents.
"Pippa, please. I've already told you to call us Raphael and Valarie."
Pippa shook her head and stepped forward, her arms wrapping around the older woman's torso.
"No offense, Mrs. Rosales, I don't think that's ever going to happen."
Valarie nodded as a soft chuckle escaped past her lips. She knew it was just how Pippa was. Careful and respectful.
"Very well," Valarie sighed, wrapping her arms back around Pippa in a warm hug. "Are you going to be joining us this afternoon?"
"I wish I could, but I already made plans with Danny..." Pippa pulled back, fidgeting with her sleeve.
"And who's Danny?" Valarie asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips
"El novio de ella." Thorn smirked,
"He's not my boyfriend!" Pippa huffed, her eyes wide.
Xavier saw it immediately, the same curve of the mouth and the playful glint in their eyes.
Thorn really was a spitting image of her mother.
"Whatever you say, Pipsqueak," Thorn shrugged, her smirk softening into a gentle smile.
"Tell him I said hi."
Pippa nodded, "Always."
She turned towards the rest of the room, "It was really nice to see you."
"You'll still be coming back with us for winter break?" Valerie asked, her tone hopeful.
"Of course, my parents probably don't even remember what school I'm at, so I doubt they'll even notice." Pippa chuckled, trying to play it off as a joke.
"Fuck your parents,"
Xavier's eyes went wide, not expecting Thorn to say something like that in front of Valarie and Raphael. He held his breath for a moment for their reaction, but none came.
"Yes, what Thorn said," Valerie agreed, "And you know we always love having you in our home."
Pippa looked down and nodded, biting the inside of her cheek, "Thank you, I love being at your home. Plus, it gives my grandmother a break."
Both Raphael and Valarie nodded solemnly, "And how is Marigold these days?"
"She's well, her diabetes tends to get the best of her some days, but what can you do?"
Thorn walked over to her friend, nudging her with her elbow. She knew how much Pippa's grandmother meant to her and didn't want her to dwell on things beyond her control.
"Hey, don't let us keep you. Go have fun with Danny." Pippa's cheeks flashed a soft pink before she stepped forward to give Valarie another hug.
"Bye,"
"See you later, Pippa." Valarie's voice was warm and soft. Like a blanket after being outside in the cold for too long.
Xavier watched Pippa leave, surprised to hear that Pippa went back to Thorn's home during winter break. He knew what it was like to have a parent who forgot that you existed until you did something to remind them you were there.
But two? What an unlucky draw from the shitty parents' hat.
Raphael walked near the window as the door closed behind Pippa, arms folded across his chest, taking in the room the way he might inspect a house before reinforcing its foundation.
"You and Pippa," Valarie said lightly, "always make things very… coordinated."
Thorn huffed, rolling her eyes. "Only because you terrorize antique stores with Papá's wallet."
Raphael didn't look at them.
But the corner of his mouth twitched.
Valarie tilted her head, amused, before moving slowly through the room.
Her fingers brushed polished wood, the neatly folded clothes, and the carefully positioned books.
Then the violin.
Her hand lingered there, as if memorizing the shape.
"You cleaned," she observed gently.
"I always clean," Thorn said.
Valarie looked at her.
No, you don't.
Thorn kept things contained. Organized chaos. Controlled mess.
This?
This was fear disguised as order. Frantically cleaning was something Thorn did to keep her hands busy, something that didn't require her to think too much.
Raphael finally turned from the window.
"You are not well here," he said.
Five words. Heavy and seemingly final.
Thorn stiffened instantly.
"I'm fine."
Valarie stepped closer, studying her daughter's face in a way that felt surgical.
"Mi amor," she said softly, "you are visibly thinner. And more pale than you appeared to be in Maren's office."
"Mamá, I live in the Swiss Alps during winter," Thorn snapped lightly. "Of course I'm pale."
Valarie did not smile.
"Come home," she said instead. "We can finish your education privately. I can teach you myself. We can keep you safe."
Safe.
The word didn't land gently.
It pressed into Thorn's ribs, slow and deep, like something already bruised being touched again.
For a split second, she almost said it.
Almost said: I don't want to leave because of him.
Because if she left, the space beside her would be empty again.
Because if she left, the quiet would come back, the kind that swallowed her whole, the kind that kept her up a night.
Because if she left, she would lose the only person who looked at her and didn't see a weapon, or a risk, or something waiting to go wrong, but something worth standing by.
Her throat tightened.
She swallowed it down and lifted her chin instead.
"I fought to be here," she said, voice steady, even if her chest wasn't. "You both know that. I begged. I argued. I proved I could handle it."
Valarie didn't move.
Didn't blink.
So Thorn kept going.
"The worst thing that could happen to me already happened," she said. "I survived it."
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.
"I'm not fragile."
Raphael's jaw tightened at that.
Not with disagreement, but with recognition. As if he saw the same stubborn girl who refused to let him win a game of dominoes even before she could spell the word.
"I'm learning control here," Thorn continued. "Not just power, actual control." Her voice sharpened slightly, something more desperate threading through it now. "I don't want to go somewhere safe. I want to go somewhere that forces me to be better."
Valarie's eyes softened, just barely, but Thorn saw it and pressed forward.
"I have a team now," she added, quieter. "Not just Xavier. Pippa. Danny."
Names that grounded her.
Names that meant something.
"People who know what I am," she said, "and don't flinch."
Her breath hitched slightly, but she didn't let it show.
"They don't treat me like I'm something that needs to be contained."
That word hung there.
Ugly, and accurate. A cruel testament to what the academy had summed her up to.
Thorn inhaled slowly, steadying herself.
"If I leave every time it gets hard," she said, softer now, "then I'm never actually going to become strong."
Her gaze didn't waver.
"I'll just become… protected."
Silence stretched between them. Heavy and measured, almost weighing down the room
"Protection can be love," Thorn said carefully, choosing each word as it mattered, because it did. Everything did when speaking to Valarie and Raphael. "But it can also be a cage."
That landed, she knew it did by the way Valarie's eyes flicked once.
Not to Thorn, but straight to Xavier. It was quick, but not quick enough.
He dropped his gaze almost immediately, shoulders pulling in just slightly like he could make himself smaller under it.
Like he understood exactly what she was seeing.
And exactly what Thorn hadn't said.
Valarie saw it anyway, saw the gap in Thorn's explanation.
The missing piece.
The reason that wasn't spoken out loud but was everywhere in the way Thorn stood her ground.
Of course she did. She knew Thorn like the back of her hand. That was her mini-me after all: the same fiery personality, the same hunger for knowledge and justice, the same demand to be seen and not quieted.
Oh, how it came back to bite her in the ass.
Valarie's gaze returned, slow and deliberate, back to her daughter.
Taking her in fully this time.
Not just the words, but the defiance.
The fear she was pretending not to have.
The attachment she was refusing to name.
Valarie crossed her arms, silver and black hair falling back over her shoulders as she exhaled slowly.
Raphael said nothing.
He didn't need to; he knew better than to speak before his wife made a decision.
The room was quiet for a while. The tension simmered on the surface.
"Fine," Valarie said at last.
Thorn blinked, not expecting her argument actually to work.
"What?"
"You can stay," Valarie replied, her lip upturned slightly in a soft smirk, "Mainly because we have already spoken with Headmistress Maren."
That made Thorn tense.
Valarie's voice cooled slightly.
"You will receive two pouches of real human blood daily."
Thorn's eyes widened.
"Daily?"
"Yes. And properly sourced," Valarie added pointedly. "We made sure of it. Contacted the provider ourselves."
Raphael's jaw tightened.
He said nothing, but his disapproval of how his daughter was treated radiated through the room like heat. Enough that Valarie lifted her perfectly manicured hand and rested it against his chest. A grounding touch between husband and wife who knew how to reach each other like books.
"And if for any reason," Valarie continued, now stepping closer to Thorn, "they do not give it to you, if they attempt to ration it again, if they diminish what you require—"
Her voice rose to a frustrated tone before it dropped. Forcing herself to take a deep breath.
"You will tell us."
Thorn's shoulders stiffened.
"No more keeping secrets from us," Valarie finished.
Her arms lowered, palms open, inviting.
Thorn hesitated for a moment and then stepped forward. Valarie pulled her into her arms without ceremony. Wrapping them around her daughter tightly.
Raphael moved too, one large hand coming to rest at the back of Thorn's head.
"You are not alone," Valarie murmured into her hair.
Raphael's voice came low and steady.
"Nunca."
Thorn swallowed hard. "I know."
Valarie pulled back slightly, bringing her hands up to cup Thorn's face and studying her features once again.
"You are a very stubborn girl," Valarie said softly, her thumbs brushing against Thorn's cheeks.
"I guess that's genetic," Thorn replied.
That almost earned a smile from Valarie. Almost.
Valarie glanced once more at Xavier, her gaze analyzing him from across the room.
He straightened unconsciously, clearing his throat awkwardly.
"You," she said, not unkindly.
He met her gaze. "Yes, ma'am."
She studied him for a long moment.
"You will come with us. We must take you both out to eat before we leave."
"What?" Thorn blinked.
"You heard me."
"The nearest town is twenty miles away," Thorn protested.
"Claro."
"That's ridiculous."
Raphael shrugged. "Condujimos."
"What?" Xavier leaned slightly toward Thorn, lowering his voice. "Is that good or bad?"
"He's just saying they drove," Thorn replied under her breath. "Keep up."
Valarie's lips curved, amused by the interaction between Thorn and Xavier.
"He is going to need Spanish lessons if he plans on sticking around."
Thorn nearly choked on her own spit. "Mamá."
Raphael's brow lifted, but he said nothing while Valarie only smiled wider.
"Can we go?" Thorn muttered. "I'm actually starting to get hungry."
Raphael nodded once.
"Vamos."
They moved through campus as a unit, though not quite together.
Valarie and Raphael walked a few steps ahead, their pace measured and unhurried, as if they belonged exactly where they were and expected the world to adjust accordingly. There was a quiet authority to them, something that didn't need to be announced to be understood.
Behind them, Thorn and Xavier followed.
Not far, but not close enough to pretend this was comfortable.
Students noticed.
Of course they did.
Conversations dipped as they passed, voices lowering into murmurs that trailed after them like smoke. Eyes lingered a little too long. Some were curious, some were speculative.
Thorn felt every single look.
Her jaw tightened incrementally with each one, shoulders drawing in just slightly, not in retreat, but in restraint. Like she was holding herself together by force of will alone.
Xavier noticed.
He noticed the shift in her posture, the way her steps grew sharper, more deliberate, as if she were daring anyone to say something out loud, but he didn't dare comment.
Didn't try to soothe it or call attention to it.
He just stayed where he was, close enough to be there, far enough not to crowd her.
It was enough.
The academy felt different when your parents walked through it. Smaller. Sharper. Like every stone was waiting to report back.
"Relax," he murmured finally.
"I am relaxed."
"You're walking like you're headed into battle."
She shot him a look. "I usually am."
That almost made him smile.
They reached the parking area near the administrative wing.
Raphael unlocked the dark SUV with a quiet click.
Valarie slid into the passenger seat.
Raphael got into the driver's seat.
That only left the back seat for her and Xavier.
Xavier stepped forward to open the door, Thorn hesitated just slightly before climbing in, and Xavier followed.
The space felt smaller than it should have.
Thorn slid toward the window immediately, arms crossed loosely over her stomach.
Xavier sat beside her, careful not to crowd.
Raphael started the engine.
Gravel shifted beneath the tires as they pulled away from Reichenbach.
Valarie and Raphael spoke softly in Spanish up front.
Thorn stared out the window; her jaw was tight. He could tell she was lost in thought by the way her shoulders tightened after a moment. Her shadows at her feet flickered faintly along the car door, neither reckless nor calm.
Silently, Xavier shifted slightly closer, not enough to touch her, but just enough that their shoulders brushed when the car turned.
Perhaps not completely accidental, but it was at least believable.
He rested his elbow against the door, angling his body just enough that if she leaned over just a bit, there would be something there.
She lasted three minutes.
Then, without looking at him, her head tilted.
Just slightly, enough that her temple brushed his shoulder.
He didn't move; he didn't dare react, in fear of scaring her. He didn't even smile.
He just stayed steady.
Thorn's breathing slowed, her shoulders relaxed, and the shadows quieted.
Up front, Valarie's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror.
She saw, but said nothing. As if she knew better than to speak up and ruin the moment her daughter finally relaxed.
By the time they reached town, her shadows had stilled completely.
The restaurant was small, warm, and smelled like herbs, oil, and something fried.
Fresh bread sat in a woven basket in front of them, steam curling faintly upward. Small candles flickered on either side, the flames dancing whenever someone reached across the table.
The lighting softened everything.
Even Thorn.
She hadn't realized how tense she'd been until now.
Valarie ordered for the table, knowing Raphael's and Thorn's preferences, the way a tentative mother and wife would.
Thorn stared at the bread like it had personally betrayed her.
Xavier reached for a piece, lathering it in a fair amount of butter, and broke it in half.
Without looking at her, he placed the larger half on her plate.
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, and he shrugged slightly.
Eat.
She rolled her eyes, but she took a bite anyway.
Xavier sat across from Valarie between Raphael and Thorn.
"So," Valarie began pleasantly, folding her hands. "You're a Thorpe."
It wasn't accusatory, but it wasn't kind either.
It was precise, curious, watchful.
"Yes, ma'am."
"And your father," she continued. "He is… visible."
"That's one word for it," Xavier said carefully.
Thorn shot him a look, her brows knitted together in concern. She knew how much Xavier resented his father, and she knew he didn't like talking about him.
Valarie smiled faintly.
"And you? Are you also visible?"
Xavier hesitated, shrugging softly.
"In different ways."
"How so?" she prompted.
He nodded.
"I paint. Draw. Sometimes my father gets it into galleries when it's good enough."
Valarie's brows lifted slightly, like she had caught Xavier in a trap. "Good enough?"
Thorn groaned quietly. "Mamá."
"I'm asking," Valarie replied calmly.
"If I can animate it well," Xavier clarified. "It's never permanent, but they are connected to my visions, and if they don't show too much, they usually meet my father's standards."
Valarie leaned back.
"Oh, I see... you're a Raven," she murmured.
"Yeah." Xavier nodded, his gaze locked on the crumbs on the white tablecloth as he spoke
"And something else," she added knowingly.
He blinked.
"How—"
"You don't move like only one thing," she said lightly.
Thorn buried her face in her hands.
"Oh, my God."
Raphael watched him in silence, his expression unreadable, dark eyes steady in a way that made it impossible to tell whether he was measuring Xavier, or dismissing him entirely.
"And you…" He said finally, his accent thickening slightly as he leaned back in his chair. "You help my daughter."
It wasn't quite a question, but it wasn't a statement either.
Xavier straightened instinctively, shoulders pulling back just enough to meet the weight of it. "Yes, sir."
A pause.
Raphael's gaze didn't waver; his eyes narrowed as he watched Xavier closely.
"Y…why?"
The word landed heavier than it should have.
The table went still, utensils still against plates, the quiet hum of the restaurant seemed to pull back just slightly, like even the air was waiting for an answer.
Thorn's head snapped up. "Papá—"
"It's okay," Xavier said quietly, his voice cutting in before she could push further. He didn't look at her right away, but there was something in the tone that softened the edge of her reaction anyway.
Only then did he turn back to Raphael. There was no hesitation this time. No scrambling for something impressive or rehearsed, just something fundamentally true.
"Because she helps everyone else," he said.
For a second, Raphael didn't respond. He just studied Xavier. Not just the answer, but the way he gave it. The lack of performance. The absence of fear where there probably should have been some.
Then, slowly, Raphael nodded.
Once.
It wasn't approval, but it wasn't dismissal either.
And somehow, that felt like more. Like Xavier had passed some unwritten test he had no idea was coming.
The tension didn't disappear after that. It only shifted subtly.
Like the conversation had been redirected rather than resolved.
Lunch continued, but Thorn could feel it happening beneath the surface.
The quiet probing.
The way Valarie's attention lingered just a little too long when Xavier spoke, her questions threading in with a softness that didn't quite hide their precision.
Question about his dorm, his grades, and his plans after graduation.
Things no one has ever asked him, because they never cared enough to.
"It seems like you are very invested, Xavier," Valarie said casually, bringing her fork up to her mouth with deliberate calm.
"In what?" Thorn snapped too quickly.
Valarie's smile widened.
"In staying around."
Thorn's cheeks burned.
"It's not like that."
"No?" Valarie asked sweetly.
Xavier nearly choked on his drink; Raphael's eyebrow lifted, and Thorn briefly considered flipping the table.
"Mamá," she warned under her breath.
Valarie leaned back, satisfied.
"I am simply observing."
"Observe something else, please," Thorn muttered.
Xavier stared very intently at his plate while Raphael took a slow sip of his water.
The rest of lunch passed in careful territory. Valarie shifted the focus to safer subjects, like Raphael's recent restoration project, and a festival happening back home.
Still, every few minutes, Valarie's gaze flicked between them.
Assessing.
By the time plates were cleared and the check was paid, Thorn's shoulders were tight again.
Raphael stood first, the rest of the table following suit.
The town had grown dimmer in the late afternoon light.
The air smelled like wood smoke and cold pavement.
Thorn walked slightly ahead this time, hands shoved into her coat pockets.
Xavier fell into step beside her.
"You survived," he murmured.
She shot him a look. "Barely."
"You handled it well."
"My mother is building a psychological case against you."
"I noticed."
She huffed.
He let a beat pass.
"For the record," he added carefully, "I don't mind being invested."
She didn't look at him.
"Shut up."
But her mouth twitched.
They climbed back into the SUV without much ceremony, the doors shutting with a series of muted thuds that seemed louder than they should have in the quiet. As the engine turned over, the last of the town lights slipped behind them, fading quickly as Raphael guided the car back onto the winding mountain road.
The late-afternoon light stretched long across the landscape, pale gold and dark orange spilled over the trees and caught on the edges of the cliffs, but it didn't soften anything. If anything, it made the world feel sharper, more exposed, more defined in a way that left no room to hide.
No one spoke.
Raphael drove with the same steady precision as before, hands fixed on the wheel, gaze forward, focused in a way that suggested he preferred it like this: controlled, predictable, and quiet. Valarie sat beside him, her posture composed but not relaxed, her attention turned toward the window as the scenery passed by in long, sweeping blurs. She looked thoughtful, but distant, like whatever she was considering wasn't something she intended to share.
In the back seat, Thorn had folded in on herself again, though not as tightly as before. The sharpness in her posture had dulled, replaced by something heavier, like exhaustion settling deep into her bones. The day had pulled at her from too many directions at once, stretching her thin in ways she wasn't used to admitting.
Parents.
School.
Expectations.
Everything she had fought for was suddenly under scrutiny.
She leaned back into the seat, her head tilting slightly toward the window, though her eyes remained unfocused, fixed somewhere between the reflection in the glass and the passing blur of trees outside.
Beside her, Xavier didn't say anything.
He sat close as he had done before, not crowding, not pressing, just present in that steady, grounding way he had, like he was anchoring himself there on purpose. Ready, if she needed him. Not asking her to.
The car rounded a curve, tires gripping the pavement as the road bent sharply along the mountainside, and the movement shifted them just enough that a strand of Thorn's hair brushed against his shoulder.
Neither of them moved away.
It lingered there, soft and unspoken, before settling.
Outside, the trees thickened, their trunks stretching taller and closer together as the light began to thin, shadows pooling between them until the forest blurred into something darker, more indistinct. The mountains always seemed to do that, swallow the day whole without much warning.
Inside the car, the only sounds were mechanical and steady, the low hum of the engine, the rhythmic whisper of tires against asphalt, and the faint, deliberate click of Raphael's turn signal each time the road demanded another curve.
Thorn's breathing had evened out by then, slow and controlled, the rise and fall of her chest barely noticeable unless you were looking for it. Even the shadows gathered faintly around her boots seemed quieter now, no longer restless, just a brief stir when the light shifted, before settling again as if they, too, had grown tired.
Up front, Valarie's gaze shifted almost unnoticeably.
Her eyes lifted to the rearview mirror.
She didn't announce it.
Didn't turn.
She just watched the two of them in the reflection, the space they shared, the way neither pulled away, the quiet understanding that seemed to exist between them without needing to be named.
There was no smile, no frown, no visible reaction at all.
Just observation.
Then, just as quietly, she looked away again, returning her attention to the window as if she had never checked in the first place.
The road straightened.
And in the distance, faint but unmistakable, the academy gates came into view, iron and stone, lit just enough against the deepening dark to stand out like a threshold waiting to be crossed again.
The closer they got, the more the warmth of the restaurant seemed to fade from Thorn's skin.
Reichenbach swallowed sound differently at night. Like a bad omen that lingered like a haunted enigma in the depths of the Swiss Alps.
Raphael parked near the administrative entrance.
The engine shut off.
Silence filled the vehicle.
No one moved immediately; the heaviness of their goodbye was already bearing down on them.
Then Raphael opened his door.
"Llegamos," he said.
We've arrived.
Thorn got out of the car and hugged her father first. Raphael held her tightly.
"cuídate, Mi Sombra." he murmured.
"I will."
Then Valarie pulled her close.
"You call me if you feel weak."
"I will," Thorn tightened her arms around Valerie's body. Inhaling her scent deeply. As if trying to ingrain it into her nostrils.
"Even if you do not think it is important."
"Of Course,"
Valarie kissed her forehead.
"La Bendición."
"Dios te bendiga."
Thorn stepped back.
As Thorn moved towards her father again, Valarie lingered. She slowly turned to Xavier. Her expression shifted. It was less polite and much more direct.
"She doesn't say everything," Valarie said quietly.
"I know."
"She protects people from her fears."
"I know."
Valarie studied him carefully.
"You are not like your father," she said at last.
Xavier didn't know why, but hearing that from Valarie made his throat tighten, as if it were the proof he needed.
"Watch her," Valarie said softly. "When she pretends she does not need watching."
He didn't hesitate.
"I always will."
Valarie nodded once, taking a piece of paper and a pen from her purse and jotting down a list of numbers.
"Take this,"
Xavier reached out for it, counting the digits. There were 10, so it must have been a phone number.
"Why are you––"
But Valerie had walked back around to the SUV.
Xavier stood there for a moment.
Watching.
Thorn looked over her shoulder once before looking back at the vehicle her parents were in as they started to drive off the academy property.
And Xavier realized something uncomfortable.
Her parents weren't the only ones trying to keep her safe.
The difference was that Thorn had chosen him to stay with.