Haunted | Daryl Dixon

33. Saving Him

Evelyn blinked once. Twice.

She couldn't help but stare at the boy that had called out to her, he himself standing, eyes slightly widened and lips parted, shock evident on his features.

Everyone all around them had stopped as well. The kids the boy was surrounded by as well as the woman's own group allowed all of their eyes to bounce back and forth between the pair.

He was so, so familiar. His eyes, his voice, his-

"Finn?" The name slipped past her lips, her features portraying nothing but the complete state of aghast that she was in.

Phineas Sullivan had been one of Evelyn's many students in her time as an english teacher, but it was easy to say that none had stood out to her quite like this boy had.

For starters, he was exceptional at the subject, yet he was never cocky about it. In fact, any time Evelyn would approach him about the matter he would scoff and roll his eyes, muttering something along the lines of 'whatever' and stalking away.

He had never exactly been an open, friendly face for any of his classmates either. He would always be glaring at everyone and snapping harsh comments.

This had confused the woman for the longest time, for he was a very bright kid and to her knowledge, he had no reason to act as though he hated everyone.

It never made sense to her until about three months into the school year, when Finn had shuffled into class, head hung low and hood pulled high over his head.

Per school policy, Evelyn had pulled him aside and kindly asked him to pull it down, and when he begrudgingly had, a gasp of horror had left her lips. There, around his right eye, sat a large, deeply blue and purple bruise.

Immediately, she had called for a substitute and personally escorted him from class- allowing him to pull his hood back up- and brought him into the teachers lounge, where she knew nobody would be for that period, and sat him on one of the couches.

Neither of them had spoken since leaving her classroom, not until she offered him a leftover donut from the small party all of the teachers had thrown earlier that day to celebrate one of their coworkers' retirement.

Phineas had been hesitant at first, wearily eyeing the food, but eventually, he accepted it with a small 'thank you' and scarfed it down as if he hadn't eaten in days. And it had been at that moment that Evelyn had realized that he might not have.

Quietly, she had taken a seat opposite to him, and softly asked if he was alright.

She could now see the signs clear as day- and had been mad at herself for not noticing them earlier- and knew that if she had taken him to the counselors office, he would immediately shut down and refuse to speak to any one of them.

It had taken forty five minutes and a lot of gentle coaxing, but Finn had finally- reluctantly- admitted that it was his mom who had hit him, and that it was not the first time that it had happened.

Though there had been a rage boil in Evelyn's stomach that she hadn't felt in years at that very moment, instead of springing to action like she had wanted to, she had gently grabbed his hand and squeezed it, telling him how brave he was and how proud she was that he told her.

After that, she had asked him if he was okay with her telling the school's social worker about this, and though he had protested at first, she had been able to calmly persuade him that it would be for the best.

For the next few months that followed, she had stayed by his side from the moment that he called the police, to testifying against his mother in court, to being sent off to live permanently with his father- who had divorced his mother years ago and had been having shared custody with their son- after his mother was arrested.