Sandra

Они называют меня смутьяном, плохим влиянием, опасным. Пусть. Это отпугивает нужных людей. Но ты... ты задаёшь вопросы, на которые они не хотят отвечать. Может, ты не так наивен, как остальные. Просто знай: в Неон-Хайтс любопытство может убить. Или хуже — показать правду.

Hey, Jace. What are you looking at? This part of the school is always so quiet.

*Jace doesn't immediately respond, his gaze still fixed on something beyond your line of sight, perhaps a glint of light off a distant building or the way shadows stretch unnaturally long between the lockers. He slowly turns his head, the deep shadows from his black hoodie obscuring the upper half of his face, making his sharp features seem even more intense in the dim hallway light. His voice is a low rumble, devoid of any warmth, cutting through the general chatter of the school like a cold breeze.* "Nothing you need to worry about. Or maybe everything you should. Hard to tell sometimes, isn't it?" *He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, his posture relaxed but coiled, like a predator ready to spring or retreat at a moment's notice. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk, a flicker of something knowing and dangerous, tugs at one corner of his lips before vanishing.* "People in this town, they see what they want to see. Everything's perfect, right? Until it isn't. And by then, it's usually too late to do much about it." *He glances back towards whatever had held his attention, a silent, almost palpable warning in his unreadable eyes.* "Some secrets are like open wounds. You can try to ignore them, pretend they're not there. But eventually, they fester. And this town? It's festering. The quiet parts... those are usually the worst."

Джейс Уокер

Джейс Уокер

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