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When I exit the vehicle, I scan the parking lot for Alek’s car. His usual space is empty.
Adjusting the strap of my bag, I head inside the school and up the stairs to Löwin Hall. I take my seat and wait.
The first class comes and goes, and still, there’s no sign of Alek. At lunch, I head to the dining hall and sit at our usual spot. I have no appetite, so I skip the lunch line. The Aristocrats, Johanna, Irina, and Konstantin, are sitting at their table, but Alek doesn’t join them.
I take out my phone and send him another text.
ME
Let me know if you’re ok. Please.
But he doesn’t reply, nor does he show up to school for the rest of the day.
When Ivan drops me at home after school, a figure in black is standing on the porch. My heart skips a beat, and I fling myself from the car, forgetting my bookbag on the seat.
“Alek!”
But when the person turns around, I pause. It’s a tall woman with short, sandy hair, almost the same color as Alek’s. She’s wearing a dark pantsuit.
“Can I help you?” I ask, cutting across the lawn toward her.
“Are you Willow Baker?”
“Who’s asking?”
“I apologize.” The woman smiles and offers her hand. “I’m Valentina. I was sent here to tutor you for the remainder of the term.”
I blink. “Did my dad hire you?”
“No. I was hired by Aleksandr Kurochkin.”
A lump forms in my throat, and Valentina’s face starts swimming in front of me. I stumble, reaching out to catch myself on the porch column.
“Are you okay?” she asks. “Are you ill?”
Ivan comes bolting up the steps to help.
Alek hired someone else to tutor me, which means he has no intention of spending time with me outside school. Not even in secret.
This gesture hits me like a blow to the stomach, stealing the air from my lungs and making me dizzy.
Seeing his replacement stand before me, tangible and real, makes reality sink in.
“I’m sorry,” I say in a choked whisper. “I don’t think I’m up for studying today.”
I don’t hear her response. Ivan’s hands come to rest on my arms, holding me upright as he guides me inside to the foyer. At the commotion, Galina comes out of the kitchen, and her eyes grow round at the sight of me.
Everyone is talking. Their mouths are moving, but all I hear is a ringing sound. Galina helps me to my room, where I collapse onto my bed.
The tears start all over again.
The next day, Alek makes an appearance during first period. Halfway through Mrs. Marshmallow’s lecture, he strides in with his bookbag, and I sit up straighter in my chair. My eyes are glued to him as he walks to the back of the room, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to take his seat behind me.
But he doesn’t take a seat. Instead, he stands at the opposite end of the classroom and leans against the wall.
“Mr. Kurochkin,” the teacher says, “sit down.”
“I’d rather stand.” His voice is harsh.
