004

Christiana woke to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar windows. For a moment, she forgot where she was. Then it came back. The funeral. The rain. Julian's house. She sat up and found her face felt tight from dried tears, but the ache in her chest had dulled to something manageable.

She showered, dressed in jeans and a fitted sweater from the closet, and went downstairs. Julian was in the kitchen, coffee already made, looking like he had been awake for hours. He wore slacks and a button-down shirt, his hair still damp from his own shower.

"Morning," she said, sliding into a chair at the counter.

He glanced at her briefly. "Coffee?"

"Please."

He poured her a cup and set it in front of her without meeting her eyes. She watched him move around the kitchen, noting the careful distance he maintained. It reminded her of last night, the way he had retreated when she stepped closer.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Well enough." She took a sip of coffee, letting the warmth spread through her. "You know, you're very domestic for a bachelor."

His jaw tightened slightly. "I manage."

"I bet you do." She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "Do you always wake up this early, or are you avoiding me?"

"I have a routine."

"That's not an answer."

He finally looked at her, his expression unreadable. "We need to leave in thirty minutes. Can you be ready?"

She smiled, slow and deliberate. "I'm ready now."

The drive to campus was quiet. Julian kept his eyes on the road, his hands at ten and two. Christiana watched the city pass by, then turned her attention to him. She noticed the tension in his shoulders, the way his knuckles were slightly white against the steering wheel.

"You're very uptight," she observed.

"I'm focused."

"On what? The road is straight."

He did not respond. She let the silence stretch for a moment before speaking again.

"Thank you for doing this. The transfer, I mean."

"You don't need to thank me."

"But I am anyway." She shifted in her seat to face him more directly. "You didn't have to help me. You could have sent me somewhere else. A hotel. A shelter. Anywhere but your house."

"Your father was important to me."

"Was he?" She studied his profile. "Or is this about something else?"

His grip on the wheel tightened further. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Whatever you're doing. Stop."

She leaned back, satisfied that she had gotten under his skin. "I'm not doing anything."

They arrived at the university twenty minutes later. The campus was sprawling, old brick buildings mixed with modern glass structures. Students walked in clusters, backpacks slung over shoulders, looking carefree in a way that felt foreign to Christiana now.

Julian led her to the administrative building where they spent an hour processing paperwork. Her major was transferred to design, her transcripts reviewed, her schedule arranged. The woman behind the desk asked if she had any questions. Christiana said no.

As they left the building, Julian's phone rang. He answered it, his expression shifting to something serious.

"I have to take care of something," he said after hanging up. "It's urgent. Can you find your way around for an hour?"

"I'll manage."

He hesitated, like he wanted to say something else, then nodded and walked away. Christiana watched him go before turning to explore the campus on her own.

She wandered through the quad, past groups of students laughing and talking. A few of them glanced at her, but no one approached. She felt like an outsider, which was accurate. She did not belong here yet. Maybe she never would.

She was passing a courtyard when she heard raised voices. She slowed, her instincts pulling her toward the sound. A girl stood near a fountain, tears streaming down her face, pointing at two guys who looked like they wanted to be anywhere else.

"You cheated on me with each other!" the girl shouted. "How could you do that?"

One of the guys, tall with messy brown hair, held up his hands. "Jess, calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down!"

The other guy, shorter with dark eyes and sharp features, said nothing. He just stood there, his expression blank.

Christiana did not know what made her step forward. Maybe it was the desperation in the girl's voice. Maybe it was the casual cruelty on the tall guy's face. Either way, she found herself walking into the middle of it.

"She asked you a question," Christiana said, looking at the tall guy. "You could at least answer her."

All three of them turned to stare at her. The tall guy's eyes narrowed. "Who the hell are you?"

"Someone who thinks you're being a coward."

"This is none of your business."

"Then maybe don't have your meltdown in public."

The girl, Jess, turned on her suddenly. "What do you know about it? You don't know anything!"

Christiana blinked, caught off guard by the venom in her voice. "I was just trying to help."

"I don't need help from some random girl who thinks she knows everything!" Jess's face was red, her hands shaking. "You have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Clearly," Christiana said, taking a step back.

"You think you can just walk up and fix things? You think you're better than us?" Jess laughed, harsh and bitter. "Who do you even think you are?"

Before Christiana could respond, campus security appeared. Two officers in uniforms, looking tired and annoyed. They stepped between the group, asking questions, taking names. Christiana gave hers without protest. She did not argue or explain. She just let it happen.

The tall guy, who one of the officers called Noah, glared at her. "Great. Now we're all getting written up because you couldn't mind your own business."

"I didn't force you to cheat," Christiana said evenly.

"Busybody," he spat, then shoved past her. His shoulder slammed into hers hard enough to make her stumble. He did not look back.

The other guy, the quiet one, finally moved. He walked past her slowly, his gaze locked on hers. He did not say anything. Did not apologize or accuse. He just looked at her with dark, unreadable eyes that seemed to catalog everything about her in a single glance.

Then he was gone.

Christiana stood there, her shoulder still aching from where Noah had hit her. Jess was being led away by one of the officers, still crying. The courtyard was emptying, students dispersing now that the drama was over.

She realized something then, standing alone in the aftermath. Noah's insults had been loud and obvious, easy to dismiss. But that other guy, the one who said nothing, had unsettled her more.

Silence, she thought, could cut deeper than any words.