Novel-novel oleh Sophie George

Clara’s POV My mother had gone out to run errands, the house was entirely quiet, and I was supposedly safe behind the locked door of my room, nursing the heavy, complicated guilt of the lie I had told just earlier.Instead, my skin felt hot, and a persistent, nervous hum vibrated just beneath my ribs.I was sitting at my desk, staring blankly at an open civil procedure textbook, trying and failing to absorb a single word. My phone lay face-up right beside the laptop, silent, dark, and utterly ominous.When the sharp, sudden chime of a text message broke the silence, I jumped nearly an inch out of my chair.My hand moved mechanically, snatching up the device. The screen lit up with an incoming call from an unknown, unlisted number. My heart skipped a beat. A cold, heavy stone settled squarely in the pit of my stomach. I didn't need caller ID to know who it was. Or at least, I knew the kind of person on the other end.With trembling fingers, I slid my thumb across the screen and brough

Kendra’s POV I didn't know how long I had been sitting on the cold hardwood floor of the living room, curled into a tight, pathetic ball with my arms wrapped around my bare legs. The damp towel I had grabbed in a panic was long since dry, stiff against my skin, but I couldn't bring myself to stand up, let alone put on clothes. The digital noise of the world was still echoing in my head—the mocking notifications, the laughing emojis, the cruel realization that hundreds of people were passing around my humiliation like a digital trophy.My phone lay abandoned on the coffee table a few feet away, thankfully silent for the moment, though its black screen felt like a sleeping monster waiting to wake back up.A sharp, urgent rapping echoed against the front door.Knock. Knock. Knock.I flinched violently, pressing my face harder against my knees. I didn't want to see anyone. I didn't want to hear expressions of pity, or questions about whether the rumors were true, or words of comfort that

Kendra’s POV I had spent the last twenty minutes standing under scalding hot water, scrubbing at my skin until it was red and raw, desperately trying to wash away the phantom grime of the past week. I wanted to rinse off the whispers, the campus stares, the bitter echoes of Clara’s rejection in the courtyard, and the suffocating memory of Kane’s office.Nothing came off. The wreckage followed me everywhere.Stepping out onto the cold tiles, I wrapped a fluffy towel securely around my torso, wiping a clear circle in the vanity mirror just to check if I still looked like a human being. My hair was damp, clinging in dark strands to my shoulders, and my eyes were hollow and bloodshot.Then, I heard it.Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz.It wasn't a standard single notification. It was a relentless, vibrating symphony of digital chaos coming from the bedroom. My phone was going absolutely berserk on the nightstand.A cold spike of adrenaline shot straight through my veins, cutting right through the pos

Clara’s POV The soft click of my bedroom door closing behind my mother sounded remarkably loud in the quiet sanctuary of my room.When she finally pulled away from that embrace downstairs—after wiping my tears, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead, and murmuring endless reassurances about how much she loved me—she had looked so remarkably relieved. She genuinely believed she had solved the mystery of my erratic behavior. She thought my week of isolation, the dark circles under my eyes, and the suffocating panic in my chest were all tied to the terrifying vulnerability of coming out to her.She walked away smiling through her own tears, feeling like an enlightened, supportive mother who had safely caught her daughter as she leaped off a terrifying emotional cliff.And as soon as the door clicked shut, the heavy, suffocating silence rushed right back in, wrapping around my throat like a cold hand.I sank down onto the edge of my bed, pulling my knees up against my chest and burying my

Clara’s POV He thought he had dodged a bullet. He thought that by hiding behind bribes and begging for my silence, he could keep the fragile illusion of our family intact.He didn't know how fragile illusions actually were.Before I could even cross back to my bed, a sharp, raised voice echoed up the staircase from the grand foyer below, cutting through the silence of the house like a knife."What is going on with you lately?"My mother's voice was pitched high, sharp with a frustration that had been slowly building over the past week. I froze, my feet glued to the floorboards as I crept slowly toward my bedroom door, pressing my ear against the wood.Downstairs, my father’s voice rumbled in response, low, measured, and carefully modulated to sound entirely calm—the exact tone he used when he was trying to defuse a hostile board meeting. "Nothing is going on, darling.""Don't give me that lie," my mother snapped back, her footsteps clicking sharply against the marble entryway as she

Clara’s POV I sat cross-legged on the center of my plush duvet, staring blankly at the wall across from me, wrapped in an oversized fleece hoodie that felt like armor against the chill in the house. My phone lay face down on the mattress, silenced and ignored. I didn't want to see another text from Kendra, didn't want to field checking-in messages from mutual friends, and above all, I didn't want to hear another word of empty justification from the man whose face had haunted my nightmares.A soft, hesitant knock rapped against the heavy wood of my door.I didn't answer. I didn't even blink."Clara?" My father’s voice filtered through the wood—cautious, strained, and carrying that heavy, frantic tone of a man who was terrified of his entire world collapsing. "Sweetheart, can I come in?""The door is locked," I called out, my voice flat, cold, and entirely devoid of warmth."I know, honey. But... I brought something for you. Please, just open it for a minute. We need to talk."A surge