Crowded places made him restless.
And truthfully, he always felt out of place around the polished elegance of Westbridge parents who measured worth in quiet conversations about stock portfolios and European summer programs.
But Sophia had asked him to come tonight.
Not with excitement.
With quiet determination.
“Just sit in the back,” she told him earlier that afternoon while practicing at the upright piano in their apartment. “You don’t have to talk to anyone.”
Rafe had nodded.
“Kid,” he said gently, “I wouldn’t miss it.”
Inside the academy lobby, however, the reaction to his arrival was immediate.
Parents glanced at him with thin smiles that disappeared as soon as they turned away.
One mother whispered something behind her hand while looking directly at his boots.
A man in a tailored gray suit stepped toward the front desk and muttered something to a staff member that ended with the words “security concern.”
