The Bond Between Us (Anastasia and Herman) novel Chapter 994

No matter how you looked at it—whether it was her looks or her family name—Patty always seemed to outshine Layna.

Layna was fiercely competitive. She had to be the best at everything, always needing to come out on top. In her mind, everything Patty had should have belonged to her.

Watching Layna, who looked noticeably thinner than when she first started at the academy, Juliana’s heart ached. “You’ve only been at school for a few weeks, and look at you—skin and bones already. Honey, your aunt can barely stand to see you like this.”

Layna had been at the academy for just over a month. The place was strict: up at 5:30 in the morning for exercise, then classes, meals in the dining hall, washing their own clothes, cleaning their own rooms—no shortcuts, no exceptions. Lights out at eleven, and you’d better not be caught out of your dorm after hours.

Most of the kids sent to this school came from privileged backgrounds and had a reputation for being rebellious. The adjustment was rough. Some fought the rules, some dreamed of running away, but it was pointless—the whole campus was surrounded by tall fences and security cameras, and parents were only allowed to visit once a month.

When Layna first arrived, she didn’t rebel like the others. She was smart. She kept her head down, followed the rules, and put on her best behaved-girl act. To the teachers, she was a model student.

“Layna, don’t worry. Your aunt is going to talk to your uncle and bring you home soon, I promise,” Juliana said, giving Layna’s cold hand a gentle squeeze.

Layna nodded, her voice soft and careful. “Aunt Juliana, please don’t argue with Uncle Scott over me. I’m really fine here.”

But the way she said it, anyone could tell she didn’t mean it.

“Layna, be honest with me—are the teachers treating you okay? Has anyone hurt you?” Juliana pressed.

Layna looked down and shook her head. “…No, Aunt Juliana.”

Juliana wasn’t convinced. She gently pulled up Layna’s sleeve and gasped. Dark bruises marked her arm. She checked the other arm—more bruises.

“Layna, what happened? Who did this to you?” Juliana’s voice trembled.

Layna didn’t answer. Tears welled up and slid down her cheeks in silence.

Layna nodded. “I will, Aunt Juliana.”

As soon as Juliana left, a male teacher—Mr. Simmons, her homeroom teacher—showed up at the door. He was in his early thirties, glasses perched on his nose, always wearing a frown. The kind of guy who probably thought smiling was a waste of time.

“Layna, back to class,” he said gruffly.

“Yes, Mr. Simmons,” Layna replied with practiced sweetness.

He didn’t soften. He followed her into the classroom and announced, “Page thirty-nine, everyone. Let’s get started.”

Up front, Mr. Simmons dove into the lesson. Down below, students feigned attention. Everyone knew what happened if you didn’t play along: laps around the track, standing in the hallway for hours—no one wanted that.

Layna sat perfectly straight, looking every bit the model student. But as she watched her stern teacher at the front of the room, a wicked idea began to take shape in her mind.