Chapter 2

I was the eldest in my family, stuck with a little brother who took more than he gave.

On my eighteenth birthday, the very first present I ever got was the news that I was supposed to marry Tom Crutchfield, who was a lame, back in my hometown.

The night I climbed out the window to run away, all I had in my pocket was my brother's old, cast-off iPhone 11—screen cracked, battery dying whenever it felt like it.

The whole college application season, I waited. And while I waited, I washed dishes. My shifts at the diner blurred together, my hands forever damp and wrinkled from the sink.

I found out I got into a top university while at my local library. The screen said "Admitted," but all I felt was a knot of dread in my stomach.

Getting in was one thing. Paying for it was another. And I couldn't go home.

Then, one day, my phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number. It was an invitation to an elite academy. Full scholarship. All fees covered. Plus 10,000 dollars a year.

I stared at the screen for ages, and suddenly, tears started to fall. This wasn't just an invitation. It was the lifeline I'd been praying for.

That was why I just couldn't understand Keira at all. We were both standing there because the school gave us a chance, but she acted like the people who made it possible were the enemy, hurling nasty words at them like knives.

Clutching Gabriel's breakfast, I rushed back to the classroom. Just as I reached the door, the bell rang for class.

My hands were trembling as I handed him the sandwich and milk, afraid he'd be mad I was late. But when he took them, he just said softly, "Thanks, I really appreciate it. It must've been a rush."

In that moment, all the tightness in my chest from running, from worrying, just melted.

After class, my phone buzzed. It was Gabriel sending me 200 dollars just for grabbing his breakfast.

I looked at that amount and couldn't help but laugh. That was more than I made in three days at the diner. Just like that, I was one step closer to making it through college without stressing over every penny.

But before my laugh could even fade, a hand suddenly shot out, snatched my phone, and smashed it down with a loud crack.

The cracked screen shattered into a web of glass, just like my fragile hope, smashed to pieces in a heartbeat.

The noise cut through the classroom chatter. Everything went silent.

I jerked my head up. Keira was standing right in front of me, her eyes icy cold, her foot grinding down on my broken phone like it was some kind of trash.

"Keira, what the hell is wrong with you?" I shouted, my voice shaking with anger.

I lunged forward to grab it, but she shoved me hard. My back slammed into the desk leg, and I sucked in a sharp breath from the pain.

She looked down at me with a nasty smirk.

She said, "Wrong with me? Look at you. Acting like their servant for some cash. Is that how little your dignity is worth?"

She jabbed a finger at my phone screen, where the payment still glowed. Her voice went shrill and mean. "You're actually happy about 200 dollars? If your parents knew you were running errands for people here, wouldn't they be ashamed?"

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.

I clenched my fists so tight that my nails nearly broke the skin.

I said, my voice trembling with emotion, "So what if I'm running errands? I'm earning my money fair and square. I'm not stealing or lying. That makes me much better than you—a snake who takes their charity and then bites the hand that feeds it, trashing everyone around you."

"Charity?" Keira let out a laugh, almost to the point of tears. "You call this charity? They're throwing us crumbs so they can point at us and feel good about themselves. Do you honestly think those people see you as anything but a pet? You're just quiet enough and useful enough to be their token scholarship kid."

She got more and more worked up, reaching out to shove me. I dodged just in time, but ended up bumping into a nearby desk, sending books tumbling to the floor.

"Keira, don't go too far!" I snapped, scooping up the books and glaring at her. "I don't care what you think. I just want to study hard and earn my own way. I'm not like you, trapped in your own bitterness, taking it out on everyone else."

Her face flushed bright red, her eyes blazing with anger and defiance.

She was about to say something when a voice interrupted us. "What is going on here?"

Our teacher was striding over, brow tight. When he spotted the smashed phone and the books scattered everywhere, his face went dark. "Class is about to start, and you're making a mess? Get back to your seats, now."

Keira shot me a death glare before stomping back to her seat, clearly pissed.

I crouched down, carefully picking up my phone. The screen was toast, and the display underneath was totally fried.

I bit down hard, shoved the shattered phone into my pocket, and slid back into my seat, trying to focus on class.

After that, Keira kept quiet, but I could feel her glare burning into me—not just disgust anymore, but real hatred mixed in.