Chapter 21

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Miles hustled his way to class. For some reason, the school decided that it was a good idea for his next class to be on the other side of the school.

Looking at the time on his phone, he saw that it was 10:28. He had two minutes to make it to the next room. Cursing inwardly, he fastened his pace and began sprinting across the yard and into the building.

However, when he got inside, he was instantly met with a wall of people. Groaning to himself, he eyed around to see if he could get through— it looked nearly impossible. If he was Moses, he'd demand everyone to part way for him, like the Red Sea. It certainly didn't help that it was raining today, so everyone crowded the covered buildings.

The sounds of squeaking shoes against the vinyl floors and murmuring chatter filled the damp air. People were walking sideways to avoid elbows, keeping their books squeezed against their chest.

Taking no notice of the busybodies rushing past him with the same problem, he felt a jolt against his shoulder and jerked back.

"Oop—sorry, Miles!" the person exclaimed apologetically.

Stepping backwards, he immediately recognised the voice, but when he looked up, his heart froze in fear. A dark sense of dread surged through his veins and his face went cold.

It was Mr Hayes, but Miles couldn't help but look at his teacher in horror. He found himself staring at— not Mr Hayes— but of Rhys.

The hairs on his arms stood up.

Questions were running through in his head as he saw a young Rhys standing before him. He wonder what Rhys had to do with him, maybe if the man was looking to fight him again, but he shook off that thought. The man didn't have the guts to start a fight out in the open. Did he?

Miles found that he couldn't keep up with his surroundings as they turned into blurs. It was like time fastened around him but he was stuck in a loop. His heart raced as a sudden layer of cold sweat painted his face.

Before Miles even had the courage to shout, the man in question suddenly vanished. The trauma of seeing Rhys' face didn't last long as Hayes morphed back to his older self.

"Miles?" Hayes said.

Hayes truly couldn't be anyone else except Rhys. He never realised how much they looked alike until now. Why didn't he see the signs before?

Though compared to his younger self, Hayes had duller skin and little wrinkles by his eyes. His expression seemed a lot softer than when he was younger too.

Seeing a softness that he didn't see before whenever he saw the young Rhys, Miles felt something tick inside him. It irked him to no end. How could a person who did all those grievous things, turn soft? His knuckled turned white at the unfairness.

It was disgusting.

"Hey!"

The terror running through his head disappeared in an instant. He whipped his eyes towards Christie. She had come up from behind, looking at him with innocent eyes.

Now those were innocent.

When he finally looked at the two side by side, he could see the resemblance. Beforehand, if he saw the two next to each other, he would have even joked that they were relatives. Though now, the truth was just as laughable. It was a bitter reality.

Just the fact that they looked similar made him uncomfortable. He couldn't help but feel guilty, though he knew deep down that it wasn't Christie's fault— still, to witness the perpetrator and a victim in front of him now, both without a clue as to what their relationship was to each other—it made him want to scream.

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