Reborn at Eighteen The Billionaire's Second Chance novel Chapter 79

Chapter 79

“Elara.” Her hand covered mine on the table. “Listen to me. There is

nothing you can do. Nothing I can do. This decision came from above

Dr. Pemberton, above Mr. Harrington, above the board.”

I looked up at her. “What do you mean?”

She hesitated. Glanced toward the door, then back at me.

“When I was packing my desk this afternoon,” she said slowly, “I had

to walk past Dr. Pemberton’s office. The door was open a crack. He

was on the phone.”

My heart started beating faster.

“I wasn’t trying to listen,” she continued. “But I heard him say: ‘Yes,

Mr. Vane. I understand. The Rivera matter has been handled as you

requested. She won’t be able to cause any further complications.“”

The room tilted slightly.

Julian.

Julian had called the school directly. Had ordered my teacher’s firing.

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All because I’d stood up at a lecture and told the truth about a

painting.

I pulled my hand back from Ms. Rivera’s. Pressed both palms flat on

the table to keep them from shaking.

“I’m sorry,” Ms. Rivera said quietly. “I know your relationship with the

Vane family is complicated.”

I couldn’t look at her. Just stared at my hands on the table.

“It’s not complicated,” I said. My voice sounded far away. “I know

exactly what he is.”

Mason’s face flashed in my mind. Standing outside his house, boxes

stacked on the lawn. His father’s hand on his shoulder, pulling him

back inside. The black car waiting at the curb.

He’d tried to help me. And they’d sent him across the country.

Now Ms. Rivera. Kind, quiet Ms. Rivera who’d only ever wanted to teach art to kids who couldn’t afford private lessons. Who’d taken the

certification exam three times because she kept freezing up during

the performance section.

Gone. Because of me.

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“Elara.” Ms. Rivera’s voice was gentle. “I need you to understand

something. Julian Vane isn’t just wealthy or powerful. He’s dangerous.

His need to protect Sloane Kennedy isn’t rational. It’s obsessive. And

he has the resources to destroy anyone who gets in his way.”

“I know.” My voice came out flat. Empty.

“I don’t think you do.” She leaned forward. “I’m a teacher who lost her job. That’s bad, but I’ll survive. I can find work at another school, in another district. But you–you’re still under their power. You still live

in this city, attend their school, need their recommendation letters

for college.”

She paused. “If they decide you’re a real threat, they won’t just expel you. They’ll make sure no decent college accepts you. They’ll make sure your name is associated with words like ‘unstable‘ and ‘malicic and ‘untrustworthy.‘ They’ll make sure your future is destroyed before

it even begins.”

I looked at her then. Really looked at her. Saw the fear in her eyes.

Fear for herself, yes. But mostly fear for me.

“What do you think I should do?” I asked.

She was quiet for a long moment.

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“I think…” She stopped. Started again. “I think you should survive.

Sign their paper. Apologize if you have to. Get through these last few

months, get into college, get away from this city and these people.

Then build a life where they can’t touch you.”

“Give up, you mean.”

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