He was the only one applauding, and the sound of his palms meeting echoed louder than it should have in the dome room. The acoustics turned each slow clap into a mockery of praise, and the cadence of it crept beneath her skin like cold fingers, making the fine hairs beneath her skin bristle.
It wasn't just the sound, it was him. Just like her, she felt he didn't belong up here. His presence carried the wrong kind of weight, like a shadow slinking where sunlight should be.
And by now, everyone knew it. He wasn't subtle. His gaze had been fixed on her from the moment he entered, bold and unblinking, as if daring anyone to question it. Unfortunately for him, he picked his target at the wrong time.
Perhaps she should get him out of the way.
Her fingers tightened around the cold metal of the gun in her hand, and her gaze swept over it. Could this be a coincidence? Or was someone deliberately dragging her back into the shadows of her past? A past she did everything possible to escape from?
Her crimson eyes found the target on the shooting lane, and when she heard the buzzer, she fired.
—--
On the Nova website, the video of Rhea was already at ten thousand views. Nesta's jaw tensed as she watched the clip again, her eyes narrowing with simmering rage. The new student had humiliated two girls from her class in broad daylight during the marksmanship test, and it had been caught on camera. The comment section was filled with both praises and loathing, and Nesta couldn't be more infuriated that some new student was about to top her chart in the Nova board.
She crushed her phone in her grip till her knuckles blanched.
"Who the fuck does she think she is?" Nesta seethed, her voice low and venom-laced.
Beneath her, Elira trembled. The poor student was currently on all fours, her arms quaking under the strain of Nesta's full weight pressing down on her back. She sat there like a queen on a throne, one leg crossed over the other, as if mocking the very idea of mercy. She had cornered Elira once more, and this was her punishment for not picking up the crutches as instructed.
Elira's shoulders sagged, and her palms were at the verge of slipping.
Stacy crouched beside her, holding her phone just inches from Elira's tear-slicked face. She replayed the clip for her to see what currently had the whole school talking again.
"Your new roommate's making waves," Stacy said with a grin that didn't reach her eyes. "Didn't she just join the academy like yesterday? Now the whole school knows about her. She humiliated two girls who were almost at the verge of making it in the ranking, but after this video, I don't think that'll be possible for them anymore. If she keeps it up, she'll break the record for being the most ranked in a short time."
"She'll rise above us," Nesta added icily. "Because you couldn't keep your mutt on a leash. Did you really think because she helped you earlier we'd let you get away? It seems you've forgotten that I have pictures that can ruin your image in this academy."
"P-please…" Elira's voice was hoarse and broken as she whimpered. Her knees burned, and she had no idea how she was able to maintain staying on all fours when she could barely stand. Perhaps this was the result of fear. She knew if she dropped Nesta, they would do even more unforgivable things to her.
Her back screamed, and the ache had long since turned into raw agony.
"Please?" Nesta mockingly repeated her pleading, then reached down and yanked her head back by grabbing a fistful of her hair. "You can beg, but you'll still be the same disgusting rat the school picked from the gutters. You know what I think? I think you'd even be famous if I were to leak your nudes on the website. Imagine how many likes and lustful comments that would get. Your poor father already thinks you're a disgrace. Just think of what he would do to you if he knew there was a naked picture of you circling the entire school."
Elira winced from the pain, trembling, and her tears ran freely down her cheeks. Her eyes had widened in horror, and the color on her face drained completely.
"We'll save you the embarrassment if you tell us what you know about that roommate of yours."
Stacy picked up her crutches. "What's her story? Who's daughter is she?"
As much as Elira hated herself for doing this, she knew she was trapped. Answering them was the only way she could escape this torture. "Her name is Rhea Ashbourne."
"An Ashbourne?" Stacy blinked in surprise, and she glanced at Nesta who's expression only soured upon hearing the new student was an Ashbourne. Knowing how influential the Ashbourne family truly is, it sparked a hint of nervousness in her system, but she didn't dare let it show.
"That means she's related to the Ashbourne who committed suicide," Mirene uttered as she stepped forward from the corner she had been idly standing at before. "Why does every Ashbourne act like they've got some hero complex. Since she's related to the previous Ashbourne, shouldn't she know her place by now?"
"She doesn't know anything," Elira immediately tried to cover for her. "She's new to the academy. Let her be."
"Are you trying to tell me what to do?" Nesta twisted her hair tighter, yanking her neck at an unnatural angle, and it earned a scream of agony from Elira. "Drop me, and I swear to God I'll snap your spine like a twig. Shut your filthy mouth before I shove sand into it."
She released her hair, and Elira didn't dare utter another word. Nesta obviously looked disturbed.
"I'm going to make her regret challenging me in the first place," she added. "And if you're thinking of siding with her again, I'll make you wish you were never born. Lucky for you, I have a merit point record to achieve, so you're still of use to me."
She stood up.
"Don't give her the crutches," she said to Stacy who blinked at the order. "This is part of her punishment. Let's go."
And with that, they left, taking her crutches away and leaving Elira on the floor. Pain lanced through her spine and legs, but it was nothing compared to the numbness that began to crawl inward. She couldn't even lift herself. Eventually, the tremble in her limbs stilled, and her body gave in before her spirit could.
Before the darkness of her unconscious state swallowed her whole, memories came surging like floodwaters breaching a dam.
Her mother's painful scream echoed in her ears, along with the sound of fist landing against flesh. Her father's voice would echo through the thin walls whenever he came home drunk, slurred with alcohol and rage. Every night, he'd beat her innocent mother without remorse.
He always looked at her with pure disappointment and a gaze full of loathing, like she was a curse he'd never shake off.
'Iwish you were a boy!'
She still heard it. Still felt it.
Every hateful syllable buried itself into her bones, and it almost felt like this was finally it. She was a weak daughter, and that's all she had ever been to him. Still, her mother had given up everything to keep her safe from her father– even done things Elira never dared to ask about– just to get her into the academy and ensure she had a brighter future for herself. So many sacrifices, so how can she leave?
She tried to endure it. Tried to live through it, but for how long before she ends up losing the will to continue living like this? That question barely had an answer before her eyes closed, the darkness dragging her under.
When her eyes blinked open, she found herself staring at a sterile, white ceiling. A rhythmic beep echoed somewhere near, and a sharp smell of antiseptic clung to the air. It took her a moment to realize she was no longer lying in the dirt.
She was in the academy's medical wing.
"You're awake."
The voice that spoke was light and familiar. Elira simply turned her head, the movement slow and heavy, like her skull was full of lead. She hadn't expected to find Rhea sitting at the edge of the bed, a plate of apple slices resting in her lap. She was still in her Novarion uniform, which meant the day hadn't ended yet.
"They say an apple a day keeps the doctors away," Rhea murmured, carefully placing the knife next to the plate. "I bought you an apple for that reason."
Elira stared at her, barely able to make an expression. She was disappointed that the death she hoped for didn't come. Dying would have been easier than waking up to this again. The life that wouldn't stop hurting her.
"Callista couldn't find your crutches," Rhea continued to speak. "Where did you go without them?"
A heavy silence followed, and Elira averted her gaze. There was no light in her eyes this time, just resignation. As if the misery she felt was no longer an intruder in her life, but a permanent residence she had made space for.
"Nesta took them."