A tall guy went to sit there—then froze.
“I believe that’s my chair,” Dev said, voice cold enough to frost bone.
The guy took one look at Dev’s expression and bolted.
Dev lowered himself with effortless menace. He turned his head.
“Nice to see you again, Seph,” he nodded, like this was a business meeting.
I just stared and acknowledged him. “Dev.”
He smiled at me — brief, sharp — but it transformed his whole face, softening something I didn’t expect.
Wendy began. “We have some new faces, so why don’t we introduce ourselves?”
She pointed at a chubby girl across from me, nervously chewing her hair.
“Me?” she squeaked.
“Yes. Speak.”
“Um. I—I’m Mandy. Amanda. Muh-Mandy.”
Ollie snorted. “You don’t know your own fucking name?”
“Mr Donahue!” Wendy snapped, appalled. “You will wait until it’s your turn.”
“Are you serious? We’ll be here all day if muh-muh-Mandy has her way!”
“Mr. Donahue!”
Mandy went beet red, humiliated. She leapt up and fled the room in tears.
Something in my stomach curdled.
Nobody deserved that.
A few people shifted uncomfortably.
Rod and Travis snickered.
Ollie leaned back in his chair, smug, like he’d won something.
Jess muttered, “Prick,” under her breath.
Wendy Hart clapped her hands sharply, trying to regain control.
“Alright, let’s keep going. Travis, why don’t you—”
“I’ll go,” Lyra cut in, lifting her hand like she was volunteering for a talent show.
Of course she would.
Wendy blinked. “Alright… Lyra. Share how you’re feeling today.”
Lyra straightened, smoothing her perfect ponytail. Then she flicked her gaze directly to me.
Lyra kept going.
