It was Friday evening, just before the students had headed home for the weekend, when Ko and his crew, Mo and Joe, got the message.
Another meeting at the cage.
They hated being summoned, especially now. The incident with Sam still hung heavy in the air. Even with the lawyers' smooth words and reassurances, none of them truly felt safe. The truth was still out there… and they knew it.
When they arrived, the setup was exactly like before. Dipter stood in the middle, calm and collected, with Jay and Snide flanking him like shadows.
Ko stepped forward, his nerves showing in the tightness of his voice. "Did something happen? Is there an update?"
Dipter didn't move. He just stared, a cigarette dangling from his lips, before speaking. "No update. Just instructions. A way to wrap up the mess you three managed to create."
Ko swallowed hard.
"Tomorrow's the funeral for the kid," Dipter continued. "You're going. All three of you."
"What?!" the three shouted at once, their voices cracking with disbelief.
They looked at each other, stunned. Everyone at school knew what they'd done, there were whispers in every hallway, eyes that lingered longer than they used to. The whole class had turned cold toward them, and they wouldn't be surprised if Sam's parents had heard rumors too.
The idea of walking into that funeral... facing Sam's grieving family... it felt impossible.
But Dipter's expression didn't change. He wasn't asking. He was ordering.
"I'm just repeating what the law firm told me," Dipter said, flicking ash from his cigarette. "They said you need to show remorse. In case this goes anywhere in the future. Things are fine for now, but who knows what someone might dig up later?"
He looked at each of them, holding their uneasy gazes.
"So to cover your backs, and everyone else's involved in this mess, you need to show up. Put on your best faces, look sad, act respectful. It's not a request."
Ko, Joe, and Mo exchanged nervous glances. Every part of them screamed that this was a terrible idea. Why were they listening to some lawyers. Just because they were well-dressed and threw around big words didn't mean they understood how things really worked.
At least, that's what Ko told himself.
"But... what if his parents hate us?" Ko muttered. "If we show up, they'll recognize us. They might throw us out. Shout at us. We were the last ones to see him… they'll know."
Dipter just laughed, cold and careless.
"They won't. Trust me. People like them? When they're grieving, they don't lash out. They cling to anything that looks like closure. You'll walk in, bow your heads, light the incense… and they'll probably thank you for being there. It's how these things go."
*****
With no room to argue and no options left, the trio had arrived at the service the next day. Dressed in black suits, stiff collars, and fake solemnity, they stepped through the doors.
Late.
They shifted uncomfortably as they entered, eyes darting around the quiet room, unsure where to go, unsure if they even belonged there.
Eventually, though, the trio made their way to the incense table. With trembling fingers, each one took a stick, lit it, and dropped to their knees in unison. They bowed their heads, pretending to pray, and then gently placed the incense into the holder beneath Sam's photo.
Rising from her position, Sam's mother turned, and her teary eyes locked onto them.
"Oh… it's you three," she said, her voice cracking as fresh tears welled up again. "Thank you… thank you so much for coming and being here for our boy."
"Yes," Sam's father added, stepping forward, his face drawn and weary. "Thank you. I know there was trouble before… but the fact that you still came today, it means the world. Thank you for being a part of his life, and for being here now."
Ko stood frozen. Speechless.
He couldn't believe it, what Dipter had said was actually true. There was no anger. No blame. Just gratitude. They didn't know. They had no idea what the three of them had done to their son.
And instead of anger, they were clinging to the only story that brought them comfort: that maybe, just maybe, Sam hadn't been alone. That maybe someone had cared.
From across the room, Max watched the scene unfold.
His right hand was trembling uncontrollably.
So much so, he had to grip it tightly with his other hand just to keep it from shaking.
They're groveling… being thanked by the very people they destroyed.
I don't think I've ever experienced something so twisted, not even during my time with the White Tiger.
After receiving heartfelt gratitude from Sam's grieving parents, Ko and the others began to move more freely around the hall. The anxiety that had gripped them earlier seemed to vanish. Because now they understood something terrifyingly simple.
They had gotten away with it.
This was how the world worked. And as far as they were concerned, they were untouchable.
As they wandered toward the snack tables, Ko's eyes landed on someone standing alone.
Max.
The three of them made their way over. Joe trailed behind, doing his best to avoid making eye contact.
"Well, well, Max," Ko grinned, his confidence fully returned. "Didn't expect to see you here. But I guess it makes sense. Thanks to us, you and Sam got so close, right? I think you owe us a thank-you for that." He chuckled, nudging Mo, who let out a laugh too.
Joe only offered a stiff, awkward smile.
Max didn't respond. He just stood there, his chest rising and falling slowly, rhythmically. Breathing in. Breathing out.
Thankfully, a voice rang out through the hall, cutting the tension like a blade.
"Thank you, everyone, for coming today," Sam's father said gently. "The service is now over. We wish you all a peaceful day."
As those words left Sam's father's mouth, the atmosphere in the room began to shift. One by one, people started to file out quietly, offering soft goodbyes and final bows. Ko took that as his cue to make an exit.
"Looks like it's time for us to go," he said with a smug tilt of his head. "But remember, Max, things will be back to normal at school."
Mo leaned in, grinning like he was in on some cruel joke. "Yeah. You better stay in line and do what we say. Who knows, maybe next time, we'll be here for you instead."
With that, Ko turned on his heel and strutted toward the exit, the other two trailing behind him. Joe didn't even dare look back—not once. He kept his eyes on the floor the entire time.
After everything they've done… they're still planning to keep going? Max thought, his blood boiling. No remorse. No respect. To say something like that here, right in front of Sam's parents, at his funeral?
Most of the guests had already gone. The space had fallen into a somber quiet, and that's when Max noticed Aron step through the doors at the far end of the room.
Taking that as his own cue, Max began walking toward the exit, just as Aron passed by him. The two exchanged only a brief moment, but Aron leaned in to whisper.
"Are you sure you don't want to stay with me for this part?" he asked softly. "I think they'd appreciate it more than you think."
"No, it's fine," Max replied, his voice steady but distant. "Besides, there's something else I need to take care of."
Without another word, he brushed past Aron and stepped out into the cool air. As he turned his head, his eyes narrowed, locking onto three familiar figures walking together down the street in the distance.
Ko, Mo, and Joe.
Still laughing. Still free.
And completely unaware of what was coming.