—

  —

  Alisa strode into my office, a neat stack of files in her arms, which she placed down.

  “Here you go, sir,” she said, smoothing the topmost document before stepping back slightly. “The marketing department needs a final decision on the design by tomorrow.”

  I nodded, then opened the file and quickly skimmed the contents. “That’s fine. I’ll have my notes ready before the deadline.”

  My phone buzzed on the desk before she could reply. I glanced at the caller ID, and for a moment, my composed expression slipped. I picked it up without hesitation.

  “Hey, kiddo,” I said teasingly. “This is quite the surprise. You’re not usually the one calling. Didn’t you say this call wasn’t happening until Saturday?”

  From the other end of the line came a quiet chuckle. “I know what I said,” Marcus admitted. “Let’s just say… a lot happened today. I don’t know if you’re free, but…”

  I straightened. Something was off and I could tell from his tone. My eyes flicked to Alisa, still lingering by the door, clearly eavesdropping under the guise of checking her tablet.

  “Alisa.” She looked up at once and straightened.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Inform everyone not to disturb me for the next hour. Redirect all calls to your desk.”

  After a brief pause, Alisa nodded. “Understood, sir.” She exited swiftly, closing the door behind her.

  I leaned forward, giving Marcus my full attention. “Alright, Marcus. What’s wrong?”

  There was a short silence, then a soft, almost relieved chuckle. “Should you really be acting so rashly?”

  I shook my head, smiling. “When it comes to my kids? Nothing else matters.”

  I could hear him exhale on the other end, a sound that confirmed my instincts. This was serious. So, I waited.

  “Today was our inaugural dinner,” he began. “And it stirred up more trouble than I expected. There’s a lot on my plate, and I’m not sure I can handle it all.”

  I stayed silent, letting him talk.

  He started to explain everything that happened during the student council election, the anonymous person he was worried about and the senior who might cause him problems in the future. But what truly worried him was the challenge given by the person called Warren Mars along with the penalty for failure.

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  “Well, it’s a lot,” Marcus admitted. “I have my team, but I’m worried about what might happen… especially to my vice president.”

  “She asked me to rely on her,” he said, “but I’m up against someone high up in the school’s administration. There’s not much I can do unless I go along with his demands. And if she gets involved…” He exhaled sharply. “She’ll be in his crosshairs. I don’t want that.”

  “I do have an idea,” he continued. “I’m thinking of creating a festival committee. They can handle the festival while the council focuses on other matters. Hazel’s persistent, so I’ll have her take care of Robin while the other two can manage council affairs. That leaves me free to deal with the challenge alone.”

  He sighed, exhaustion creeping into his voice. “So… what do you think?”

  I’d let him vent without interruption. Now that he’d finally asked for my input, I paused before answering.

  Marcus was intelligent; he’d already worked out the most logical approach. But this wasn’t just about strategy. He did occasionally come to share things with me whenever he felt pressured or just needed an outlet. This was one of those times, regardless of if he asked for my input after or not. I always knew he was one to find a solution, no matter how complicated.

  He was always the type to shoulder burdens alone and yet he wasn’t afraid to seek help when he truly needed it. But this time, things were different. An important figure of the school was involved, and that raised the stakes. He knew involving others could put them in danger.

  “Marcus. Let me ask you something.”

  I heard a subtle shift in his breathing. “Go on.”

  “Do you want me to interfere?”

  “No.” His response came quickly.

  A small smirk touched my lips. That was just like him.

  “I see,” I said, tapping a finger against the desk. “Here’s what I think. You’ve already figured out the best approach: dividing the workload. But what you really need is a push. From what I can tell, you’re determined to keep everyone safe—one person in particular.”

  There was a pause.

  “Hazel,” he said.

  “Right. She wants to help you, even knowing the risks. That’s her role as vice president. I have to say, I admire that.” I paused before asking, “Marcus, do you like her?”

  The silence that followed was heavy.

  “That’s a strange question coming from you,” he finally said, cautiously.

  “You don’t have to answer,” I replied lightly. “I’m not trying to push you into saying something you’re not ready for.”

  Another pause, then a quiet sigh.

  “Honestly?” His voice was softer now. “I’m not sure. I feel something when I’m around her, but whether it’s admiration, curiosity, or something more… I don’t know. What I do know is she’s a friend I care about, and I don’t want her caught up in something she can’t control.”

  I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “I see. Then protect her and everyone you care about. But remember to put yourself first. Caring about others is good, but if they become too dependent on you, they risk becoming a liability. Ensure this does not happen and don’t make needless sacrifices.”

  “Right. I understand.”

  Then, with a smirk, I added, “Except when it comes to your sister.” I heard him snicker. “What’s so funny?”

  “I think Kailey can take care of herself. But don’t worry, I’ll keep looking out for her.”

  “Good.”

  “Thanks, Dad. For listening. And for the advice.”

  I smiled. “No problem. I’m always happy to talk to my favourite child.”

  There was a moment of silence. Then—

  “Calling both Kailey and me the favourite kind of defeats the purpose,” he said dryly.

  I chuckled. “But how could I possibly choose between the two of you?”

  Marcus sighed. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to work. Take care, Dad.”

  The call ended with a soft click and I set the phone down on the desk.

  As much as I worried as any parent would, I had faith in him. He was strong, intelligent, and capable. He would be fine.

  He was our son, after all.

  My gaze drifted to the framed photo. For a moment, I simply stared, lost in thought. Then I shook myself from the daze and leaned forward to press the intercom.

  “Alisa,” I said, “I’m going to need a cup of coffee.”