“Hon, are you sure about this?” Morris looked at her husband, concern lining her voice. “What if he has trouble fitting in?”

“I know you’re worried,” Lennox replied, pulling out his phone and a small notebook from his shirt pocket. “But I’ve looked into everything. It’s a private institution—they’ve opened up their reform program internationally. I’ve been following it for months. A colleague I met during a business trip in Europe sent his son there. The kid came back completely transformed.”

He flipped through the pages of his notebook, brimming with research and printed emails. “I reached out to the headmaster, not expecting a reply—it’s a prestigious place, after all—but to my surprise, he got back to me. Considering Terrence’s academic history and... behavior, I thought they’d laugh me off. But they’re willing to give him a shot through this new initiative.”

Morris took the phone from his hand and began scrolling. “You really planned all this? I didn’t know you were even thinking about something like this.”

Lennox nodded. “The school normally accepts only top students who meet rigorous academic and character standards, but this reform program is different. They’re trying out something new—taking in high-risk students and pairing them with top-performing prefects. The idea is to guide them back onto the right path.”

Morris frowned slightly. “But what about his friends here? Won’t they wonder why he disappeared?”

Lennox scoffed. “Friends? The same ones who borrow expensive things and never return them? The ones who vanish the second things go south? Please. I'm not doing this to punish him. I’m doing this to save him. The headmaster even arranged for him to stay with a prefect—someone who’ll monitor and mentor him. It’ll be far safer than leaving him here where no one can stop him from going off the rails again. And who knows—he might actually thank us one day.”

Morris hesitated. “Well…”

Lennox leaned in, gently. “If we don’t do something now, we’re going to lose him. This is our shot. A structured environment, high expectations, and someone responsible watching over him 24/7. He needs this.”

She sighed, nodding slowly. “Okay. If it’s what’s best for our son.”

He smiled and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. She giggled.

“Oh, you,” Morris said with a soft smile. “So, when does he start? Do you have his schedule? Will we be able to contact him?”

Lennox pulled out his phone, scrolling through the email. “I’ve still got a few questions for the headmaster myself, but he already sent over a plane ticket. It’s for later today.”

Morris’s eyes widened. “Today? Already?! I only just found out about this, and they want to take him away now?”

“I know it’s sudden,” Lennox admitted, “but we don’t have time to waste. The earlier we get him there, the better.”

She stood up abruptly. “Then let’s go pick him up from jail first.”

“He’s only been there a day,” Lennox said calmly, waving her down. “He’s an adult—he can handle a few more hours.”

Morris shot him a sharp look.

Lennox sighed. “…Fine, fine. Let’s go get him.”

Jail Release

“You’re good to go,” the officer said, unlocking the cell. “You’ll sign the release form at the front desk. Your property is in the bag—wallet, phone, everything. You’ve been processed and served your time. Next time, think before throwing a house party with half the city invited.”

Terrence rolled his eyes as he walked out of the cell. “Finally. I was starting to get bored. Nothing to do in here except listen to snoring and stare at walls.”

He changed into his street clothes and collected his things, lazily tossing his hoodie over his shoulder before stepping outside.

The car ride was heavy with silence. Terrence stared out the window, arms folded, the city sliding past him like a blur.

“You’re not even a little remorseful, are you?” his mother asked, her voice tight with disappointment.

“I am—”

“We’ve decided to send you to a reform program,” she interrupted.

Terrence scratched the inside of his shirt. “Seriously? Dude, just take me back to school. I can’t miss another day.”

“Don’t call her ‘dude,’” Lennox snapped. “She’s your mother.”

Terrence leaned back with a smirk, tossing out a dismissive wave. “Whatever.”

Lennox abruptly pulled the car to the side of the road, threw open the glove box, and tossed a stack of papers onto Terrence’s lap.

“Still think you’re going to school? These are your grades. Zeros. Multiple absences. Reports of cheating and bullying. What have you even been doing this past year?”

Terrence snorted, flipping through the pages. “I dunno. Vibes?”

“Your caretaker quit,” Morris said quietly.

Terrence grinned, performing an obscene hand gesture.

“Crude,” Morris snapped, slapping his hand down.

“It’s not my fault she took the hush money and ran.”

“You’re going to deal with that too,” Lennox growled. “We’re done cleaning up after your messes.”

Terrence shrugged. “If you don’t want me to miss another day of school, just tell them I was out for a... special reason.”

Morris rubbed her temples. “Terrence. What are we going to do with you? I never imagined our son would turn out like this.”

“First of all, don’t call me that name,” he said, pulling out his phone. “It’s like calling me a tax document. I go by Renzo now.”

“Renzo?” Morris repeated. “That’s not your name. What’s wrong with the name we gave you?”

“Nothing. Just boring,” he muttered.

He glanced at his phone and grinned. Damien Yo, tough luck getting caught. Let’s hang later.

Terrence typed back:

 my bad for the late reply, was in jail 😂 but I’m out now. meet me by the lockers

He slipped his phone into his pocket. Perfect. I’ll play along, get dropped off, and slip out once my parents leave.

He smiled to himself. “Alright, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Lennox and Morris exchanged a knowing glance.

“Just rest,” Morris said. “It’ll be a while before we reach the transfer point. I brought your headphones.”

Terrence put them on without question, closing his eyes.

Somewhere Else

“Headmaster, are you seriously considering enrolling him into our program?” The administrator’s voice was incredulous.

The headmaster calmly stamped a document and set it aside.

“You said it yourself—we’re developing a reform program. What better way to test it than with someone like him? If our students can help redirect someone so off-course, what does that say about our institution?”

“He’ll ruin our reputation. Why would anyone send their child here after this?”

The headmaster smiled faintly. “Because we’ll prove we can reform even the worst.”

He picked up the phone.

“Yes, Mr. Verlice. I have a request for you.”

Terrence lifted one side of his headphones, squinting out the car window. Something wasn’t right.

“Dad… where are we?” he asked, his tone more annoyed than curious.

Silence.

The car slowed and came to a smooth stop.

He looked around—clean sidewalks, sleek glass walls, people wheeling suitcases. It took him a second to realize.

“…Are we at an airport?”

His mom turned around in her seat, hands folded nervously. “Since we’re already here, let’s get you ready for your flight.”

“What flight?” Terrence sat up straighter, voice rising. “Are you serious right now?”

“We didn’t want to tell you until we were certain,” his father said, unbuckling his seatbelt and stepping out. “This is for your own good.”

Before Terrence could argue, the trunk popped open. A man in a dark suit was already standing by the rear of the car, quietly pulling out his suitcase.

Terrence yanked his headphones off and tossed them into the back seat, the motion sharp with disbelief. He scrambled out of the vehicle, his mind racing.

“Wait, wait, hold on—what the hell is going on? You’re not even coming with me?”

“Your father has already spoken to the headmaster of the school,” his mother said softly, eyes misting. “Everything’s been arranged.”

“You’ll be monitored. You’ll be safe. And hopefully,” his dad added, “you’ll finally learn something.”

Terrence stared at him as he reentered the car. No long hugs. No dramatic goodbyes. Just the soft thump of the doors closing and the quiet whir of the car engine turning back on.

Terrence stood on the curb, blinking at the suitcase that had just been unloaded. The car that brought him here was already reversing.

“Seriously?” he muttered under his breath. “You’re just dumping me like lost luggage?”

From the rolled-down window, his mother called out, “We’ll keep in touch! We left your charger in the front pocket!”

His father simply waved—whether out of guilt or finality, Terrence couldn’t tell. The car pulled away without another word.

Terrence stared after them, jaw clenched, trying to process what just happened.

A tall man in a black suit approached. Sharp eyes. Military posture. No-nonsense energy.

He turned to the suited man, who was already checking his watch.

“Terrence Ryleigh Thompson?” he asked.

Terrence raised a brow. “Wow, the full government name? What’s next—my blood type and childhood trauma?”

“I’m Mr. Carter, Mr. Verlice’s assistant. I’ll be escorting you to the campus. Your flight is in ninety minutes. I hope you packed light.”

Terrence sighed, raking his fingers through his hair.

“So this is really happening…”

“Yes,” the man replied flatly. “It is.”

He took the suitcase and began walking. Terrence hesitated only for a second before following.

A Meeting on Campus

Mr. Verlice, standing in the sunlight of the high-ceilinged office, adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves as the headmaster finished briefing him.

“Your children will be responsible for him,” the headmaster said plainly. “He is the ideal candidate and may be hard to control, but this trial requires proof of concept. They’re our most capable prefects. If anyone can whip this one into shape, it’s them."

Mr. Verlice didn’t react. He simply nodded. “Understood.”

“Good. He arrives today.”

Terrence stepped out of the sleek black car, dragging his feet as he took in the sprawling grounds of the school.

Stone buildings loomed like something out of a brochure, all archways and ivy and too much symmetry. The lawns were painfully green. The students, silent and polished, moved like clockwork.

He adjusted the hood of his sweatshirt, tugging it low. As if that could shield him from the overwhelming air of we expect perfection.

At the base of the stone steps stood a tall man in a tailored coat, hands folded patiently in front of him. Smiling.

“Who’s the vampire?” Terrence muttered under his breath.

“That would be Mr. Verlice,” the assistant said, unimpressed. “Head of your host family.”

Mr. Verlice stepped forward, and to Terrence’s surprise, extended a hand. “You must be Terrence. We’ve been expecting you. I hope the flight and ride here weren't too exhausting.” His voice was warm, not in the forced way people use with difficult kids, but like he meant it. Like he genuinely cared.

Terrence looked at the offered hand like it might bite him. Then shook it limply.

“Can’t wait,” he muttered, tone flat as asphalt.

Mr. Verlice’s smile didn’t falter. “I know this is a big change, but we’ll do our best to make you feel at home.”

Before Terrence could respond with something snide, the headmaster’s voice echoed from behind. “Let’s get him settled.”

Terrence turned slowly. “You all talk like I’m getting locked in a padded cell.”

Mr. Verlice gave a light laugh. “Only metaphorically. We do believe in structure.”

Terrence gave a dry nod. Great One of those smiling types. Too nice. Probably hiding something.