He swung again. His fists pounded with unrelenting force, driven by grief and fury.

Eric didn’t move to block it. Didn’t shove him away. Didn’t raise a hand in defense.

He understood completely. If it had been Hadley lost to him… he would’ve gone just as mad.

A series of frantic bangs rattled the door.

“Mr. Flynn! Mr. Scott!”

Phillips’s and Quentin’s voices rang out. They had caught wind of the chaos from just outside. “We’re coming in!”

Without a lock to stop them, Phillips and Quentin burst through the door. What they found made them freeze.

Ernest stood over Eric, one hand gripping Eric’s shirt, the other raised and ready to strike once more.

“Mr. Flynn!”

“Mr. Scott!”

Without a second thought, Phillips and Quentin charged forward in a panic. Quentin held Ernest back with firm arms, while Phillips steadied Eric and guided him away from danger.

After a tense struggle, the two were finally pulled apart.

Gasping for breath, Ernest kept his glare fixed on Eric. His fist was still clenched and shaking. “Quentin, let me go!”

“No, Mr. Flynn,” Quentin said, tightening his grip. He stood his ground. “That’s your brother! The one you’ve always trusted! The one you said you’d protect no matter what!”

Those words hit something deep. Ernest stopped moving. His hollow eyes bore into Eric without flinching. His face gave nothing away, but inside, he felt like he was sinking into a pit he couldn’t crawl out of.

“Ernest…” Despite the bruises painting his face, Eric managed a faint smile. “If you want to hit me, then do it. I won’t fight back.”

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Eric had a hunch something bigger was unfolding—Ayla might not have been acting alone. Still, whatever Ayla did, he couldn’t deny his part in it. He knew he wasn’t blameless.

Ernest didn’t answer. Instead, he shut his eyes, and his tall frame teetered slightly, as though the weight of everything was pulling him down.

“Ernest!”

The call was met with a single word, barely spat out between Ernest’s gritted teeth. “Out.”

Confused and shaken, Eric called out, “Ernest?”

“Leave now!” Ernest’s eyes narrowed into something darker. “Unless you want another beating, go ahead.”

By his side, Ernest’s hand curled into a tight fist, the anger refusing to settle.

“Ernest—”

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