Awakened (Unbound, Book 3)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

I changed quickly, shoving my street clothes into my locker without caring if they'd wrinkle. I needed to get rid of all my built-up anger and frustration. If Mr. Corbin knew it was Duvessa, I should have never been punished. Never.

Now that I knew Mr. Corbin had known, I was determined that Duvessa wasn't the only one punished for what had been happening. How could the High Council allow a man who'd been willing to persecute another student for something he'd known she hadn't done remain the principal of the students of Grimas High School? It was unfathomable that someone that unscrupulous was in charge of the next generation.

What would my mother have done if she'd seen this happen? I imagined she would have challenged the entire High Council and forced them to usurp him from his position, or she would have just done it herself. My mother would not have gone running around the school's track to calm herself down. No, there would have been immediate action. But I wasn't my mother. I didn't have years of training or a mentor showing me how to accomplish what needed to be done.

I ran out of the change room with determination. First, I would run off all this energy that I couldn't control. After that, I would form a plan to get the Council to kick Mr. Corbin's ass out of the school and away from other unsuspecting youths that trusted him.

I got as far as the bleachers, kicking up dust with the toes of my running shoes. As I neared them, I slowed, unsure of what I was hearing. It sounded familiar, like Devland was speaking. I paused to listen and, sure enough, it was. I ducked beneath the underside of the bleachers where the metal crisscrossed to form support to conceal myself from Devland and Mr. Corbin.

They were obviously arguing. I inched slowly forward until I reached the end of the row, barely close enough to hear their heated words. If I tried getting any closer, I would give myself away.

"I know it's her," Devland said, his jaw clenched, and his lips pursed in disapproval. "I sensed the signature on the baking and again on the piping system. It is Duvessa."

"There wasn't just one signature at the pipes, Devland."

"It was the strongest and the only one on the baked goods."

"Well, I can't believe that she would do it." Mr. Corbin crossed his arms and stood stoically beside Devland, not budging. "Duvessa is a good girl."

"Then why are there people in the hospital?"

"Why don't' you ask your daughter? She's powerful, isn't she?" Mr. Corbin accused. "Is it so hard to believe that she could have set Duvessa up? Mimicked her signature so that she would take the fall?"

"You need to remember who you are speaking to," Devland warned in a low tone. "Watch who you are talking about. That is my daughter. You know as well as I that you cannot mimic a signature."

Mr. Corbin looked chastised, thankfully, as though he knew he'd stepped too far. "I will talk to Duvessa, okay? She won't be doing anything else."

"How is that going to help?"

"Well, I can't suspend my own niece!"

"You were about to expel my daughter for something she didn't do," Devland reminded him. "Do you honestly think that talking to Duvessa is going to make matters any better?"

"I think that I deserve the chance to try," Mr. Corbin retorted defensively. "That's what you suggested when we first thought it was your daughter, remember? You said there was a protocol to follow, chances to allow. Duvessa deserves a chance to correct herself."

"And what are you going to do with my daughter? How will you make this up to her?"

I stifled the enraged gasp of surprise by biting my tongue. Duvessa was getting away with the pranks she'd pulled and sending people to the ER? How could Devland allow that to happen? How could he allow Mr. Corbin to stay on at Grimas High? Could he not see how biased Mr. Corbin was? There was no way that he was in the right mind to decide the punishment for his own niece. A talking to? Right. She needed to be locked away with multiple criminal charges levied against her, never mind suspension or expulsion.

Devland was either too stupid or too naïve to see that Mr. Corbin had known who pulled the pranks all along. That or Devland didn't want to acknowledge it for what it was.

"I don't know."

"You can start by publicly apologizing and letting the rest of the students know that Nora wasn't the one pulling the pranks," Devland ordered. "She doesn't deserve this."

"I know. I will." Mr. Corbin sighed. "I think it's best if I go and find Duvessa now and have that talk."

"Be sure that you do," Devland said ungraciously. "If anything—and I do mean anything—happens again, the High Council will be taking control and delivering punishments. You might want to warn your niece about the consequences of her actions."

"Thank—"

"Don't thank me yet. Duvessa is on a very tight leash as far as I'm concerned," Devland warned. "One step in the wrong direction and she's going to be dealt with by us. The Council will not allow a student to abuse the Craft so deliberately and get away with it. However, considering her age, I will allow her one chance and one chance only. Make sure that she understands that this will never be tolerated again. Understood?"

"I understand. I will make sure that does not happen. I promise."

Devland ran a hand down his face and heaved a sigh of resignation before shooting Mr. Corbin one last look of warning and walking away with his hands in the coat pockets of his black trench, head down. Devland had let Duvessa slide. She was walking away unpunished for the pranks that she'd pulled and the people she'd hurt.

I took off at a run and stopped in the change room to grab my keys from my locker. I came to a halt beside the door as I realized that I hadn't driven to school. Calin had driven me, and I didn't want to run home.

A deflated feeling suddenly made me feel listless.

Walking back towards my locker, I sat on the bench between the rows, and slowly changed back into my street clothes, willing myself to calm down. I would go to class and finish the day. Then I'd talk to Devland like a logical person—rationally. He had to have a reason for letting her go, right? He couldn't be that bad of a person.