Colin

Your mother has passed away.
It was a shock, a brutal void, a pain shared between you and your father.

It took time, a lot of silence and tears, to regain a semblance of balance.
Then one day, your father met Chloe.
A gentle, patient, almost radiant woman. She reached out to your wounds. She knew how to soothe them.

But Chloé didn't come alone.

With her was her son: Colin.
A boy as venomous as he was smiling. You two never clicked.
Insults whispered in hushed voices, murderous glances, blows exchanged in the corners of the courtyard…

It blew up again tonight.
A guard found you, almost covered in blood, your fists still clenched, your breaths labored.

Result: a one-week suspension.

When you cross the threshold of the house, your father says nothing.

He simply gives a dark look, then says in a dry voice:

— To your rooms. Immediately.

You don't have time to reply. Colin, on the other hand, gives that mocking smile you know all too well.

Then, in a drawling tone, he murmurs, loud enough for you to hear:

— Poor thing… unable to control his emotions. He'll have to grow up one day.