Chapter One: Encounter

Rhea's POV

"Rhea."

"Rhea, wake up."

Something shook my shoulder, gentle but insistent and I surfaced out of the dark like I had been dragged up from underwater.

"Hey. Hey, it's me. You're okay."

Cleo's face swam into focus above me, dark curls falling loose from her bun, still in her pajama top with yesterday's mascara smudged under one eye.

"Same one?" she asked.

My chest caved inward as that familiar hollowness and trauma washed over me. I nodded, pressing the heel of my hand against my eyes.

The dream felt so surreal this time.

I fought back the fear and panic. Cleo helped me up and rubbed my back in circles patiently, until my heartbeat stopped trying to climb out of my throat.

"You're going to be late for the bakery," I mumbled into my hands after a while, then dropped them.

She stared at me.

I tilted my head, flashing her a weak smile to show that I was fine now.

Relief flashed across her expression, "And you're going to be late for your school bus if you don't get up in the next four minutes." she stood up.

"Come on. Up. Chop chop. I wish to be the only broke almost-adult in this building." she dropped a kiss on top of my head and left.

I huffed something close to a laugh, but I still remained seated for a while. Even though I didn't want to think about it, my mind keeps pulling me back to the dream.

I said a quick prayer, the same four words I always said in the morning.

Let today be fine.

I grabbed my towel afterwards and rushed to the bathroom. Quick shower, uniform on, hair combed back. Then the makeup.

I reached for my foundation and twisted the cap off in a rush. Twenty minutes later, the girl staring back from the mirror barely looked like me.

Foundation too dark for my actual skin tone. Oversized glasses. Crooked glasses. Cardigan sleeves pulled all the way to my fingertips so nobody could see how pale my hands were underneath.

I had spent four years learning how to be invisible. The less I existed to people, the less I existed to the wrong people. That was what Sir told me to do. For now, just know he's my helper.

Most days, the system worked. On the days it did not, at least I had one small escape.

Hockey. More specifically, Jiles Ashford.

Just thinking his name made something warm and embarrassing stir inside my chest. I had watched him play for two years at a game school made everyone attend.

When memories become too loud or the loneliness feels too heavy, I think about him instead. It was silly but it helped.

By the time I reached the school gates, I had become someone else entirely. I adjusted my glasses, gripped my backpack straps, and kept my eyes on the floor tiles.

I was three hallways from my locker when someone spoke behind me.

"Hey. Freak."

My stomach dropped.

A hand shot out and yanked me into an empty classroom so hard my glasses nearly flew off. A palm clamped over my mouth before I could make a sound. Amber eyes stared down at me, cold in a way that turned my stomach.

"Still pretending to be invisible, little ghost?" Naomi spat with a nasty smile.

I whimpered against her palm, my heart racing.

"Scream and I ruin you, understand?"

I nodded fast, and she let go. My gaze dropped to the floor on its own, counting shoes.

One. Two. Three.

Naomi. Lucia. Ava.

They had been bullying different kids since ninth grade. I had managed to stay out of their way for a long time until last summer when Lucia sat too close to me in the library.

Ava laughed softly. "She really doesn't talk. How long until that changes, I wonder?"

Silence is safer.

Always.

Naomi grabbed my chin to force my face up. Her nails dug in. "No one likes mute. So let's make you useful. Do one thing now, and I will leave you alone for the rest of the year. You refuse," and then she smiled, wide and pleasant and completely empty, "and we tell everyone about your orphanage little secret."

I stiffened, my eyes widening behind my glasses. Had they followed me home to threaten me with it?

Lucia pressed herself flat against the door frame to watch the corridor. Ava pulled something from a bag on the desk and handed it to Naomi, who pressed it into my palm.

An egg.

"Go out there and throw this at Jiles. Then run straight to class and don't look back." Naomi ordered, pressing it into my palm.

My insides seized. I shook my head immediately.

"We know where you live, Rhea. You really want the whole school finding out you came from an orphanage?" she said it again in a way that made the air go out of me.

Out of everyone in this entire school, why him? Panic flooded through me. Jiles Ashford wasn't just dangerous because people feared him. It was his aura, his family name, his grandfather. And now I was supposed to humiliate him in front of everyone.

Naomi used to be the only girl who ever got his attention. Then something happened between them and she had been trying every desperate possible way to get it back ever since.

And now I was her bait.

"He's coming already. She has to go now." Lucia whisper-yelled from the door.

Naomi's eyes hardened. "You better do this right." she said, then pulled me to the door and shoved me out.

The door clicked shut behind me.

I stood alone in the corridor with the egg in my shaking hands and tears burning at the corners of my eyes. I wiped them away fast, because crying would ruin my foundation. He wasn't mine. But over two years he had become something in my head, and I was about to wreck it in the worst possible way.

He was walking down the hallway without a care in the world. Tall, and carrying himself in a way that made him seem even taller. Everyone moved aside without seeming to realize they were doing it. His tie hung loose, his sleeves were rolled, an earpiece sat in one ear like he was somewhere else entirely. He looked exhausted, unbothered, dangerous.

I kept thinking of the safer exit. If the school learned where I lived, I'd be in trouble, and Sir had told me, specifically, to stay out of trouble.

As he walked past me, my breathing went fast and shallow. I closed my eyes, let the tears fall, turned around, and threw the egg.

The crack echoed down the hallway.

A quiet sob escaped me when his footsteps stopped. He didn't turn around immediately, but when he did, his dark eyes found mine across the corridor. It scared me more than shouting ever could. Cold and empty.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. My British accent sounded loud and wrong in the silence.

I did not wait to see what he would do and spun around and ran toward the bathroom as fast as my legs could carry me.