Her Hidden Hero from the Unwritten Page novel Chapter 6

Seth froze in his tracks.

Basking in the admiring gazes of her classmates, a stubborn look crossed Whitney’s face. “Seth, I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”

Seth’s eyes landed on her face. A few seconds later, he gave a curt nod. “Fine.”

The door clicked shut again.

Whitney’s best friend Wendy Walker leaned in cautiously. “Whitney, does Seth have a crush on you? He actually listened to you!”

“Right? If it were anyone else, Seth would have slapped them across the face by now.”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” Whitney said, biting her pink lip. “My focus is entirely on my studies right now. I… I don’t know what his intentions are, though he does come find me a lot.”

Wendy insisted, “He definitely likes you. I mean, you’re gorgeous.”

-

Out in the hallway, Seth ground his teeth and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

Just as he put one between his lips, a passing waiter rushed over to stop him. “I’m sorry, sir, there’s no smoking allowed in here.”

“My bad.” Seth clamped down on the unlit cigarette and walked out of the restaurant.

Outside, his lackeys were waiting anxiously. Their hair colors rivaled a neon rainbow—red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple. Pedestrians actively crossed the street to avoid the gang of delinquents.

“Boss,” the lead lackey rushed up and asked. “Why are you out so fast?”

The breeze ruffled Seth’s hair as he finally lit the cigarette. Feeling utterly irritated and suffocated, he said coldly, “They wouldn't let me in.”

Inside the backpack was a family photo. In the picture, all four of them stared coldly at the camera, looking like a dynasty of mental patients.

Aside from that, there was a small Iron Defender keychain. Winona had won it from a claw machine on her first try when she was seven. She didn't care about that specific version of Iron Defender, so she had just tossed it to Seth. Seth had loved it in elementary school and always kept it clipped to his backpack.

Winona couldn't even remember what year or what exact moment Seth stopped hanging it on his bag. She had never asked; she simply assumed he had lost it. She never imagined he had perfectly preserved it for over a decade.

In that cramped rental, paint peeling off the walls, the room had been so tiny it barely fit a single bed and a small desk. On the desk sat a half-empty bottle of water. Clutching the backpack, Winona had sobbed until her throat tore.

The young couple next door was screaming at each other, kids were running wildly outside, and amidst all the deafening noise, her tears completely soaked the fabric of the bag. She clutched the Iron Defender keychain so tightly it dug into her hand. Her palm ached, feeling exactly like the time she scraped it falling down when she was five.

Except, back when she was five, Seth had rushed over, pulled her up, and blown softly on her palm. “Pain, pain, go away,” he had mumbled in his baby voice.

This time, no one was coming...