The silence in Headmaster Thornton's office was thick enough to choke on. It pressed down on Liam and Ethan, a suffocating weight of disapproval and simmering rage. Sunlight streamed through the tall, arched windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, a stark contrast to the darkness that seemed to emanate from the Headmaster himself.

Thornton, a man carved from granite and tradition, sat behind his imposing mahogany desk, his face a mask of controlled fury. His jaw was clenched, and the knuckles of his hands, resting on a neatly stacked pile of student files, were white. Beside him sat Mrs. Hawthorne, the school counselor, her expression a mixture of concern and professional detachment. She was clearly uncomfortable, a witness to a storm she couldn't control.

Liam stood rigid, his posture betraying none of the turmoil churning within him. He’d known this was coming, had braced himself for the fallout, but the reality was still a gut punch. Ethan, beside him, was a study in controlled defiance. His shoulders were squared, his chin lifted, and a flicker of something akin to a challenge shone in his eyes.