Invisible Strings

Chapter 9: March

The spring air was warm but soft, carrying the faint scent of blossoms across the courtyard. Small petals drifted lazily from the trees, settling on the cobblestones like confetti. On their usual bench, tucked away from the bustle of students, Hannah leaned back, book open in her hands, though her eyes rarely left the margin. She traced the words with a fingertip, more for the motion than the meaning, and stole quiet glances at Isadora, which Isadora noticed but kept that to herself.

Isadora sat beside her, knees slightly apart, one elbow propped on the back of the bench. Her own papers were spread in front of her, grading sheets and scribbled music notes, but every so often her gaze flicked to Hannah. Noticing the way the sunlight caught the strands of blonde hair at her temples, the small way she tucked the book closer when someone's voice got caught in the wind. It was subtle, but Isadora had learned to see the things Hannah tried so hard to hide.

After a few moments, Isadora let the silence stretch, comfortable in the shared stillness. Then, casually, she said, "You know, the Family Weekend is coming up next weekend. They'll be hosting families, all that usual chaos." 

Hannah stiffened immediately, the book drooping slightly in her lap. Her fingers tightened around the cover. The air between them seemed to thicken, petals falling unnoticed to the ground.

Isadora noticed the change, the subtle shift in posture, the small inhale Hannah didn't want her to hear. She didn't press. Not yet. Instead, she let a soft smile brush her lips and nodded toward the path beyond the bench. "Want to walk a little before heading back? The evening's quiet today."

Hannah closed her book, sliding it into her bag. "Yeah... yeah, I'd like that." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but Isadora heard it clearly.

They walked slowly, side by side, along the lantern-lit path that curved through the budding trees. Hannah's hands were clasped to her side, making Isadora smirk. She subtly and playfully poked Hannah's hand, leading Hannah to smile and poke hers back. Isadora hummed, amused and softly. Matching her pace, letting her set the rhythm, letting her feel unhurried.

When they reached the edge of the dorms, Hannah paused, glancing down at the cobblestones. "Goodnight," she murmured, almost reluctant to leave Isadora's side.

Isadora's hand brushed hers briefly, light as a promise. "Goodnight," she said softly, voice carrying that quiet assurance. 

-

Later, in the quiet of her own quarters, Isadora couldn't shake the ache that had settled in her chest. Hannah's hesitation, her subtle flinches, the way her eyes sometimes darted away. All of it pulled at something deep inside. She found herself opening a laptop, searching quietly, trying to understand, trying to find pieces that might explain the silent weight Hannah carried.

Her breath caught when a record appeared. A Vanisher. Charles March. Arrested. Trafficking vanishers. Exploiting gifted children. And a missing child of Charles March and Lacy Dearing(Deceased). whom the police assumed to be dead. Hannah March. Hannah... The words hovered on the screen, stark and cold. And who else knows what went on that wasn't caught...

Her chest tightened. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, not wanting to know more, and yet unable to look away. She thought of Hannah, her quiet, trembling body on the bench, the way she had looked down at her book as though it were shielding her from the world.

Closing the laptop, Isadora leaned back in her chair, staring at the flickering candle on her desk. The words echoed in her mind, heavy with what Hannah hadn't told anyone. And yet, despite it all, she had smiled at her today.

And somehow, that small, fragile smile made Isadora's chest ache even more.

-

The week slipped by quietly, each day a small ripple of unease that no one seemed to notice but Isadora.