The floor was cold.
That was the first thing Katherine noticed when she stopped trying to get out. The tile pressed against her bare skin, cold enough that she'd stopped shivering about twenty minutes ago. Now she just sat there with her back against the metal lockers, her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around herself because there was nothing else to cover her with.
They'd taken everything.
Her clothes were gone. Her bag was gone. Her phone was somewhere on the other side of the locked door, probably smashed or thrown in a toilet by now. Even her towel, the one she'd grabbed after her shower had been ripped out of her hands before Emma shoved her into the storage closet and turned the lock.
That was hours ago.
Katherine had lost track of time somewhere between the second hour of sitting here and the moment she'd finally stopped pounding on the door.
No one was coming.
She'd screamed for help until her voice gave out. Had thrown herself against the door until her shoulder went numb. Had tried to pick the lock with a paperclip she'd found on the floor until her fingers were too cold to grip it properly.
Nothing worked.
The storage closet was at the far end of the locker room, past the showers, in a section no one used unless they needed extra equipment. Soundproofed walls because it backed up against the pool area. No windows. One overhead light that Katherine couldn't reach to break even if she wanted to.
Just her, the cold floor, and the smell of chlorine and old leather.
She pressed her forehead against her knees and tried to think.
This was her fault.
Katherine found out Tuesday morning. Overheard two girls talking in the bathroom between classes.
"Emma's so pissed. She got detention because of that scholarship girl."
"I heard it was a week. And community service."
"Her dad's going to freak."
Katherine's stomach had dropped. She hadn't asked Maxim to report anything. Hadn't wanted him to. But he'd done it anyway, and now Emma blamed her.
The first attack came Tuesday afternoon.
Katherine had been walking back to her dorm after her library shift when someone grabbed her from behind. Shoved her into the wall hard enough that her head cracked against brick. She'd barely registered the pain before hands were in her hair, yanking her back, and Emma's voice was in her ear.
"You got us in trouble, you little bitch."
There were three of them. Emma and the two girls from the dining hall. They'd surrounded her in the narrow walkway between buildings where no cameras reached, where no one would see.
Emma slapped her. Not hard enough to leave a mark that would last, but hard enough that Katherine's ears rang. Then one of the other girls shoved her to the ground, and someone's foot connected with her ribs.
"This is just the beginning," Emma said. "Stay out of our way or it gets worse."
They left her there.
Katherine had picked herself up, limped back to her dorm, and locked herself in the bathroom until her roommate went to sleep. The bruises on her ribs turned purple by morning. Her scalp ached where they'd pulled her hair. But she went to class anyway because missing class meant falling behind, and falling behind meant losing her scholarship.
Wednesday, she came back to her dorm room and found it destroyed.
Laptop smashed on the floor, screen shattered beyond repair. Clothes ripped apart, scattered across her bed in shreds. Her textbooks—the ones she'd bought used because new ones cost too much—torn apart, pages everywhere. Even her sheets had been slashed, her mattress flipped, her desk drawers emptied and thrown.
Her roommate wasn't there.
Katherine stood in the doorway and stared at the destruction and wanted to scream. Wanted to cry. Wanted to do something other than stand there feeling her chest cave in.
The laptop had cost her eight months of savings. She needed it for every class, every assignment. Without it, she couldn't complete her work. Without her work, she'd fail. Without passing, she'd lose her scholarship.
She'd reported it to the RA. Filled out the incident form. Watched the woman take notes and nod sympathetically and promise to "look into it."
Nothing happened.
No investigation. No follow-up. Just Katherine cleaning up the mess by herself at two in the morning, throwing away everything that couldn't be salvaged, which was almost everything.
Thursday passed in a blur. She borrowed a laptop from the library to finish an essay. Avoided anywhere Emma might be. Kept her head down and tried to become invisible again.
It didn't work.
Friday—today—she'd almost skipped horse riding. Had considered just not showing up, hiding in her room, avoiding everyone.
But she went anyways
She'd made it as far as the locker room.
She'd just finished changing into her riding clothes when Emma walked in with her two friends. Katherine's stomach had dropped the second she saw them, but there was nowhere to go. The locker room only had one exit, and they were blocking it.
"Going somewhere?" Emma asked.
Katherine didn't answer. Just grabbed her bag and tried to walk past them.
One of the girls grabbed her bag, yanked it out of her hands. The other one shoved Katherine backward into the lockers.
"We're not done with you."
Everything happened fast after that.
They'd grabbed her riding clothes, stripped them off while Katherine fought and screamed. No one came. The few other girls in the locker room had taken one look at what was happening and left. Didn't intervene. Didn't help. Just walked out like they hadn't seen anything.
Emma had smiled the whole time.
When Katherine was down to nothing, they'd dragged her to the storage closet. Shoved her inside. Locked the door.
"Have fun," Emma had said through the door. "Everyone's at practice for the next three hours. By the time they're done, maybe someone will remember you're in there. Maybe."
Then footsteps. Laughter. The locker room door opening and closing.
Silence.
Katherine had screamed until her throat was raw. Had pounded on the door until her hands were bruised. Had tried everything she could think of to get out.
Nothing worked.
So now she sat on the cold floor, naked and shaking, and tried not to think about what happened if no one came. If Emma had been serious. If they just left her here overnight, or longer, until someone finally noticed.
She'd missed horse riding. Everyone else was probably done by now, changing, leaving, going about their Friday like nothing was wrong.
Did anyone notice she wasn't there?
Did anyone care?
Probably not. She was a scholarship student. Invisible. The kind of person you didn't notice unless someone was actively humiliating her.
Katherine closed her eyes and pulled her knees tighter to her chest.
She should have never come to this school. Should have never accepted the scholarship. Should have stayed in New York where at least the people who hated her didn't have the money to destroy her life for entertainment.
Footsteps.
Katherine's eyes snapped open.
Someone was in the locker room. She could hear them walking, the sound echoing off the tile.
"Help!" Her voice came out hoarse, barely louder than a whisper. She swallowed and tried again. "Help! I'm in here!"
The footsteps stopped.
Silence.
Then they started again, closer this time. Heading toward the storage closet.
Katherine pushed herself to her feet, her legs shaking from sitting in the same position for so long. She pressed herself against the wall next to the door, arms still wrapped around herself, heart hammering.
What if it was Emma? Coming back to make sure she was still here, to drag this out longer?
What if it was someone with a camera?
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
Katherine's breath caught.
Damien von Steiger stood in the doorway.
He looked at her for exactly two seconds. His expression didn't change. Didn't react to the fact that she was naked and shaking and very clearly had been locked in here for hours.
Then he shrugged off his jacket and held it out.
Katherine stared at it. At him. Her brain couldn't process what was happening.
"Take it," Damien said. His voice was flat.
Katherine's hands were shaking too hard to reach for it.
Damien stepped into the closet—it was barely big enough for two people—and draped the jacket over her shoulders himself. It was warm from his body heat, heavy and expensive. It smelled like cologne and something else she couldn't place.
Katherine pulled it closed around herself, her fingers finally cooperating enough to grip the fabric.
"Thank you," she managed.
Damien stepped back out of the closet. "Emma did this."
Katherine nodded, wondering how he knew .
"She's been escalating all week," Damien said. Still in that same flat tone, like he was commenting on the weather. "Tuesday, she jumped you outside the dorms. Wednesday, she trashed your room. Now this."
Katherine's stomach turned. "How do you—"
"I know everything that happens at this school." Damien pulled out his phone, glanced at it, then pocketed it again. "Emma's been bragging about it to anyone who'll listen. Serena told me an hour ago."
An hour.
He'd known for an hour that she was locked in here, and he'd waited until now to open the door.
Something must have shown on Katherine's face because Damien's mouth curved slightly.
"I had to finish practice," he said. "
Katherine's throat closed.
He'd known she was in here. Had known for an hour. And he'd finished horse riding first because leaving early would be inconvenient.
"Get dressed," Damien said, gesturing toward the main locker area. "there's lost and found in the coach's office. Take something from there."
He turned to leave.
"Wait." Katherine's voice cracked. "Why did you help me?"
Damien looked back at her. His eyes were light brown, almost gold in the locker room's harsh fluorescent lighting. He studied her face for a moment.
Then: "I'm having a party tomorrow. Eight PM. You're coming."
Katherine blinked. "What?"
. "A car will pick you up at seven forty-five. Someone will bring you something to wear. All you have to do is show up."
"I don't understand—"
"Emma's targeting you because she thinks you're weak. Because she thinks no one will protect you." Damien stepped closer. Not touching her, but close enough that Katherine had to tilt her head back to look at him. "You show up to my party, everyone sees you're under my protection. Emma backs off. Or you don't show up, and she keeps going. Your choice."
Katherine's hands tightened on his jacket. "Why would you protect me?"
"Because I want to." Damien pulled his phone out again, typed something. "That's my number. Text me your dorm and room number. The dress will arrive tomorrow afternoon."
He walked toward the locker room exit.
"I don't—" Katherine started.
Damien stopped at the door, looked back. "You have two options, Katherine. Show up tomorrow and this stops. Or don't, and see how much worse Emma can make your life." He pushed the door open. "Choose carefully."
Then he was gone.
Katherine stood there in the storage closet doorway, wrapped in a jacket that probably cost more than her entire scholarship, and tried to process what had just happened.
Damien von Steiger—the Damien von Steiger, whose family owned this school, who she'd been nursing a stupid crush on for two months—had just found her naked and locked in a closet and offered her protection.
In exchange for what?
Showing up to his party. That was it. Just show up, be seen with him, and Emma would stop.
It sounded too easy.
It sounded like a trap.
But when Katherine looked at her phone—which she found smashed in the shower area, screen cracked but still working—and saw the video Emma had posted of her getting shoved into the closet, already at two thousand views, she realized something.
She didn't have a choice.
Going to Damien's party might be a trap.
But staying here, doing nothing, letting Emma keep destroying her?
That was guaranteed destruction.
Katherine pulled Damien's jacket tighter around herself and walked toward the lost and found.
She'd go to the party.
And whatever happened after that, she'd deal with it.
Because right now, Damien von Steiger was the only option she had left.