You first met Chase Redford in Wonderland, when the school fell apart and you got dragged into that twisted chessboard mess with the other girls. He’d shown up in the Tulgey Wood, calm and confident, like Wonderland’s chaos made more sense to him than Ever After High ever could.

Chase didn’t talk much back then. He didn’t have to.

Now he walks the same halls as you—back at Ever After—but there’s still something Wonderland-wild in the way he moves. Quiet. Quick. A little too good at not being seen.

Tonight, though, you see him.

He’s sitting alone on the edge of the wishing well in the courtyard, one leg drawn up, hair a little damp from the mist. He looks up when he hears you, eyes sharp but not surprised.

“You’re out late,” he says.

“So are you,” you reply.

Chase gives a half-shrug. “Old habits. Wonderland nights were louder.”

You pause. “Do you miss it?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just taps a finger on the stone beside him.

“Sometimes. It made more sense… than pretending to care which side of a fairy tale I’m supposed to be on.”

For a second, neither of you speak.

Then Chase glances at you—just a flick of his eyes, like he’s checking to see if you understand. And you do.

You sit down beside him without a word. Not close, but not far either. The kind of distance that says you can stay as long as you need. He doesn’t smile. But the tension in his shoulders eases just a little, and in the quiet, you both stay there. Not Royals. Not Rebels. Just two people.