Riley Ross
Chapter 38: The First Hour of the Night of the Second Kill

Chapter 38: Chapter 38: The First Hour of the Night of the Second Kill

"So... how was your first day at school?"

"Feels like I’ve already been there a month. It was eventful, Mom. Really eventful."

"Yeah? I’d love to hear what happened, then."

"It’s honestly better if you don’t."

A few hours later, Riley and Hannah were back in their massive penthouse, having only taken the train until they found a spot large enough where they could summon one of their father’s private jets to take them back to New York without getting unnecessary public attention.

And right now, they were having dinner with their mother. Diana had prepared them an entire feast—and just the right timing, Riley and Hannah went through a lot in their first day in Mega Academy.

Despite the size of their penthouse, their dining table was surprisingly small—intimate, modest. All corners within arm’s reach. A testament, perhaps, to how close the family truly was beneath the layers of absurd wealth and power.

"It’s better if I do know what’s happening at your school," Diana said, wiping her mouth with a napkin before looking at Riley with a fond smile. "Was there anything especially eventful, my sweet, snowy, little baby boy?"

"Mom, ew." Hannah almost choked on a mouthful of juicy, buttery lobster. "Riley’s turning thirteen next year. That’s in, like, five, six months or something. You seriously have to stop talking to him like that."

"Oh, please. He doesn’t mind." Diana waved her off without looking. "Do you, my sweet, snowy, little baby boy?"

"I do not mind, Mother," Riley replied calmly, placing his fork down. "As for anything eventful—Sister is right. There were many."

"Alright," Diana leaned her elbows on the table, her shoulders bouncing as her smile grew, "Which one was the most eventful?"

"I suppose... when I found out that Sister used to be bullied in her previous school."

"Riley!"

Diana stood up so fast the table shuddered, several plates almost sliding off.

"What?!" She bellowed. "Why didn’t you tell me?!"

"Riley!" Hannah groaned in frustration. She also shot up from her seat, her fists clenched. "Why would you tell her that?!"

"She asked, Sister."

"You got interrogated by the police today, and that’s what you think is most important?!"

"Wait—what?!" Diana’s eyes darted from one child to the other.

"That is also true, Mother," Riley casually nodded. "I am now considered a suspect in a murder investigation. But finding out Sister was bullied... that was the most eventful part of my day. Nothing else mattered after that."

Hannah stared at her brother, eyes wide with disbelief. But after a few seconds, the frustration softened—just a little. She saw the sincerity in his gaze, and somehow, that made it worse.

"Ugh! Fuck!" She snapped and turned on her heel. "I’m going to my room. Don’t knock. I won’t open it!"

"Hannah!" Diana called after her. "Young lady, where are you going?!"

"I hate both of you!"

And with her footsteps echoing through the marble floors, Hannah stormed off. The slam of her door sent a gust of air rippling through the penthouse.

"What..." Diana’s legs gave out, and her butt dropped heavily back into her seat as she turned to Riley with wide, disbelieving eyes. "...What exactly are you two doing at that school? On the first day?"

"It was very eventful, Mother," Riley shrugged.

Diana didn’t press further. She just watched him in silence as he calmly finished the last bites of his dinner, which was a good seven minutes.

"I am done, Mother," Riley said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. "Would you like me to wash the dishes? You appear to be upset."

"...No," Diana whispered. She stared at her son for a moment longer before blinking out of her daze. "Wait—does your dad know about any of this?"

"We have not told Father anything yet," Riley replied as he stood up. "But as for being a murder suspect—he is a murder suspect now too, Mother."

"Huh..." Diana closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, her breaths growing heavier.

"May I go to my room now, Mother?"

"Yes," Diana said softly. Then, opening her arms slightly, she added, "But... why don’t you give Mommy a hug first?"

"I am afraid I am not going to do that, Mother."

"Please?" she whispered.

She kept her eyes shut, holding her breath. A second passed, and then another second—and then, to her shock, she felt a light pressure against her fingertip. She opened her eyes to find Riley gently pressing his index finger to hers.

"R-Riley...?"

Her voice cracked. She stared at him, eyes glimmering. It was the first time Riley had initiated any form of physical contact with her since he was a toddler, since the moment he’d become fully conscious.

Riley, however, didn’t say a word. He blinked once, gave her a small nod... and walked away.

"Riley..." Diana whispered as he rounded the corner and disappeared. "You’re not going to become like Alice. I’ll make sure of it."

"Did you say something, Mother?" Riley’s head suddenly popped back into view from around the corner.

"N—Nothing, sweetie," Diana quickly cleared her throat, her composure snapping back in place. "Just... good night."

"Good night, Mother."

Riley nodded again and retreated to his room, locking the door behind him before moving to the center of his relatively empty room.

He exhaled a long breath... then suddenly hopped.

But before his feet could land, his body hovered, suspended in the air.

"W—"

He didn’t have time to react or celebrate before an invisible force threw him to the side, slamming his arm hard against the wall. He slid down slowly and landed face-first on the floor.

He stayed like that for a moment, blinking and staring at the floor that was only centimeters away from his eyes.

But after a few seconds, he slowly sat up and muttered, "Ouch."

But instead of stopping, he stood and returned to the center of the room... and then he hopped again.

This time, he wasn’t thrown to the wall... but his left foot snapped upward violently, flipping him over. He managed to shield his head before it hit the ground, and found himself floating—this time upside down, his left leg extended toward the ceiling.

He stayed like that for a moment, blinking and staring at the floor that was only a foot away from his eyes.

Then, slowly, he rotated and lowered himself back down, standing up as if nothing had happened.

"Ouch," he breathed out again.

But without hesitation, he hopped once more.

This time, he remained suspended for several seconds—his limbs still, weightless—before gently descending to the ground, inch by inch.

"Oh?" Riley tilted his head as his feet gently touched the floor. He stood still for a few seconds, then gave himself a small nod.

"Okay."

He walked into his closet, moving past rows of clothes that all looked exactly the same as what he was wearing now.

"Uh oh," he muttered as he stared at them—endless gray hoodies and long-sleeved shirts. He narrowed his eyes at the clothes before sighing and shaking his head.

He was about to walk out of his closet, but then saw a box on the floor that said: Riley’s Old Clothes. 11 Years Old.

He pulled it out and opened it. But alas, also gray hoodies and long-sleeved shirts.

Riley flipped through them without even a hint of nostalgia, just a steady rhythm of sighs, until finally—

"Oh?"

He pulled out a black hoodie.

He stared at it for a moment before quickly pulling off his current clothes and slipping it on. It fit snugly, almost uncomfortably so, clinging to his now bigger frame.

It doesn’t matter. For the joy I’m going to feel tonight... this minor discomfort is nothing.

He then changed into a smaller pair of black pants and stood in front of the mirror. The tight fit outlined the wiry, developing muscles along his arms and torso.

He nodded once.

Then, pulling the hood over his head, he stepped out of the closet—and without a pause, climbed up onto the wide windowsill beside his bed.

The wind howled across his face, but the tight fabric didn’t flutter. Even the hood clung to his head as if reluctant to let go.

Below, the lights of New York burned like constellations trapped on earth. Red car lights crawled like insects. The stars above were nowhere to be seen, drowned out by the city’s glow. Even the moon was dim.

New York was completely alive, and still, without hesitation...

Riley jumped.

"Uh oh."

Unfortunately for him, the floating he had practiced earlier wasn’t working.

Mr. Universe—did I misunderstand you?