The college campus, a sprawling testament to youthful aspiration, was alive with the easy hum of midday. Students sprawled across picnic tables and benches, textbooks open but largely ignored. Ophelia, however, had found her own quiet corner. She sat beneath a massive, shaded oak tree, its ancient branches a welcome canopy against the brilliant sun. Cross-legged on the lush green grass, she held a sandwich, its simple, familiar taste a small comfort. She liked the spot—it gave her a wide view of the campus, yet let her tuck herself away where she didn't feel so exposed. It was a perfect microcosm of her life: a visible part of the world, but with an escape route always in mind.
She had barely taken her first bite when a cheerful voice interrupted her solitude.
"Hey—you're in my Lit class, right?"
