Cynthia Dion: "Sneak out," Mr. Holt repeated. "I--" I stuttered, confused. "To discuss what we can do to persuade your father to give you and your sister a chance," he continued swiftly, clarifying to dispel my doubts evident in my silence. "It is not possible for me to meet you at this time," I excused, having set a boundary to avoid any requests that could lead to more trouble with my father. "Okay! I'll come by to meet you in the morning," he spoke softly to me, a tone I wasn't accustomed to. "But Dad won't let you talk to me," I whispered, quickly pulling the phone away from my ear to glance at the time displayed on the screen. It was past midnight. "Just leave that to me." He almost mumbled the last part conspiratorially, "Go rest now; we'll meet in the morning." With that, he hung up. That night, I fell asleep with the belief that the morning would bring good news. Taking some time to stretch and yawn, I felt like my eyelids were too heavy to open right away. With no drapes to control the light, the sunlight streaming through the window blinded me. "Flora! Wake up!" I gently placed my hand on her shoulder and then shook her vigorously, even though my own eyes were closed. "Hm? What's it for? It's not like I can go to school anymore," she grumbled, trying to pull away and hide beneath the blanket. "You are going to attend school. Get up now!" I said firmly as I rose from the mattress. She appeared startled, but I didn't have the time to explain anything to her. My reliance on Mr. Holt was significant. Once I emerged from the bathroom dressed in blue jeans and a white shirt, I heard my father calling for me. To my surprise, Mr. Holt was already present. His presence brought comfort to my eyes, assuring me that he was keeping his word. "Mr. Holt is here to drop you off at school today," my father announced. His mention of school brought a smile to my face. "Now don't delay, and make sure to tell Flora to get ready as well," a hint of annoyance laced my father's voice. It seemed as though he was complying against his will, solely to please Mr. Holt. I nodded respectfully to Mr. Holt, who responded with a smile and a shake of his head at my playfulness. Hastening our preparations, we were afraid our dad might change his mind. It was intriguing how Mr. Holt could accomplish something we couldn't: persuading our father. Flora boarded the school bus while I got into Mr. Holt's car. He was dressed exquisitely in a black, slightly wrinkled, long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans, emanating a confident aura. I held my breath the entire time until I got into his vehicle, worried that my father might call me back inside. "How did you manage it?" I inquired as he started the vehicle, turning to look at him. He responded softly, "I provided him with hope," his eyes remained on the road, yet his focus seemed directed at me. "Hope? What sort of hope?" He shook his head in response to my question and accelerated towards the parking area. Before I could ponder his silence, he had already parked the vehicle in the school lot. My brow furrowed with concern. "I told your father about your participation in the full moon competition," he finally explained the statement that had intrigued my father so much. He rested one hand on his thigh, while the other remained on the steering wheel, even after the car had reached its destination. "The competition, Mr. Holt? Are you not aware that my wolf is barely even present? By doing this, you're exposing me to the entire pack. And then what? Will I be an outcast if being a rogue isn't already enough for them? They might cast me out of their territory and abandon me in the woods to die alone," I complained, recalling that Atticus had done the same thing. He had signed me up even when I hadn't wanted to participate. "How long do you believe you can conceal this truth from everyone? Soon, you will be out of school, followed by a routine test. They will assess whether you have enough control over your wolf to coexist with others without succumbing to anger or frustration and harming others," he said, tilting his head and removing his sunglasses. His eyes were genuinely captivating, possessing great depth, and his gaze seemed profound. "The issue is that they might destroy me with the training sessions and strength competitions! My life is already incredibly miserable. This event will provide them the opportunity to tear me apart," I complained, as I had heard that Rosalie’s wolf had been deemed the most exquisite so far. She would likely win and make my life a living hell for participating in this contest. "I'll assist you." The moment those words reached my ears, I ceased my rambling and observed his face in silence. "You're aware that I oversee an academy focused on training new wolves. You aren't the only she-wolf whose wolf hasn't awakened. Many others are in the same situation, and I've effectively guided them all. They now lead content and healthy lives. A few have even become formidable warriors with the most robust wolves," he reiterated what he had previously mentioned. "Believe me when I say your wolf will be incredibly vibrant and unique. Our training will commence after school. Don't be concerned about your father; he has granted me permission to take you to my academy once classes are over." Despite the significance of the conversation, I couldn't help but notice the mark on his neck. It seemed that a previous mark had been replaced by a new one, yet the initial mark had not completely faded yet. "If you've finished inspecting my neck, you can proceed inside the building now," he remarked, causing my heart to sink in my chest. I hadn't realized he had caught me blatantly staring at his neck. I shook my head in embarrassment and then nodded at him.