“I always knew you were rather cruel,” Mrs. Renton half-whispered before adding almost inaudibly , “We talked a bit and made a decision.”

Reluctantly taking his eyes off the plant leaves, Jack stared at his teacher mother.

Something about that last phrase, thrown in seemingly casually, didn’t sit well with him.

“What decision?” He asked with growing irritation, showing no enthusiasm for continuing the conversation. His mother’s habit of speaking in riddles occasionally got on his nerves, and apparently, today’s conversation wasn’t going to be an exception.

“Lately, Eric’s been behaving, to put it mildly, poorly,” Mrs. Renton began quietly. The way she pronounced his best friend’s name made Jack once again look into his mother’s eyes. This time, her gaze was very sharp and attentive.

“What we embarked on twenty-three years ago was a deviation from the rules of the order. A very serious deviation, as you well know. Every month, sometimes even every week, Alex would send us detailed reports,” she continued.

“People need something to do in retirement,” Jack muttered sarcastically.

“Don’t interrupt me, Jack! As his illness progressed, he sent them less and less frequently, and you know that very well too. In one of his last letters, he promised that Eric would take over from him now.”

Jack lowered his gaze and started studying a piece of old gum dropped by some past student and treaded on a thousand times since by more student feet. He knew where his mother was heading with this, and he didn’t like it. More precisely, he didn't like it at all.

“After Alex’s death, we received only a few incomprehensible scribbles from Eric. Written in completely different handwriting, with all sorts of emoji is and other nonsense,” Mrs. Renton stared intently at her son. “Can you explain that?

And get off the table! What a bad habit!” she scolded her son, clutching her heart meaningfully once again.

“Explain what? The few or the incomprehensible?” Jack asked, still not looking up from the floor, struggling contain his emotions.

“Stop it, Jack, you know what I mean.”

“I think it’s not as bad as you, madam, think. He’s just… finding it difficult to keep an eye on someone who lives under the same roof as him, and that someone happens to be his sister,” Jack whispered the last word almost to himself, thinking,

“I could even bet on who’s keeping an eye on whom there.”

“It’s like me starting to monitor every step of my cat! Sooner or later, he’ll notice and retaliate by ruining all my plantings or peeing everywhere! And if you’re concerned, you could go check it out yourselves. They’re friends, after all,”

Jack looked at his mother again with reproach and once again struggled to suppress a smile. The woman clearly didn’t expect such a retort from her son and froze, her mouth slightly open in confusion. “And don’t blame Eric. He’s depressed… he’s going through a lot."

“Plantings, you say, he’ll ruin? Mess up everything around?” Jack, I’m not arguing, Eric’s a good guy, but this… what’s her name…” Mrs. Renton paused, trying to recall.

“Sarah.”

“Yes, Sarah. He’s become irresponsible! We can’t rely on him anymore,” Mrs.

Renton exclaimed with concern and unmistakable worry in her voice.

Jack swallowed loudly, looking away from the floor where he was now inspecting a curious dark spot, and met his mother’s gaze, as green as his own.

“And what do you want me to do about it? Should I personally check all his scribbles before sending them to you? Make corrections?”