When Max returned to school, it was a Friday, the last day before the weekend.
And that meant something else: tomorrow, his time would be up.
It was the day the Black Hounds had promised to come for him.
While the teacher droned on at the front of the room, Max sat in his seat, eyes locked on his notebook but his thoughts miles away. His mind was working overtime, trying to plan, trying to prepare.
'I've done what I can to get ready for the worst outcome tomorrow... but what would've helped the most is if I could've increased my strength, my power, as much as possible before the big day,' Max thought, grinding his pen against the page in frustration.
His gaze flicked to the numbers and notes scribbled in the margins of his notebook. Calculations. Figures. Timelines. He had been racking his brain for any way to increase his money, fast.
