Chapter Two

At exactly 4:30 AM, the alarm rang.

Cathy slammed her palm against the plastic casing, silencing it before it could wake her mother. She had only closed her laptop at 3:30 AM after hours of debugging corporate firewall architecture as “Mirage.” One hour of sleep. Her eyes burned, and her head felt heavy, but exhaustion wasn't an option. Her cybersecurity retainer was the only reason they could keep buying her father's medication.

Before she could push herself off the mattress, soft footsteps dragged across the apartment. The door opened, and her mother stood there, a warm, damp washcloth in one hand and a clean collar liner in the other. The dark circles beneath her eyes made her look even more exhausted, but she still managed a tired smile.

“I heard your alarm, love.”

“Good morning, Mama.”

“Morning, love.”

There was no time to argue about who needed more rest. They simply began their routine. Her mother gently wiped Cathy's face while Cathy pulled her hair into a tight bun. Then her mother smoothed the collar of her threadbare white Oxford shirt and buttoned it to the top with trembling fingers.

Next came the hardest part. Cathy dropped to her knees and pulled a plastic bag from the back of the closet—her school shoes. The left sole had split open. She grabbed the duct tape. Pull. Pull. Three turns around the toe, two around the heel. She tore the tape with her teeth and pressed the final strip down. The sound seemed deafening in the tiny apartment. Her mother watched silently, biting her lower lip.

“Done.” Cathy shoved her feet into the patched shoes and stood.

At exactly 6:30, she grabbed her bag and architectural project. But before leaving, she stopped beside the faded floral curtain. Her father lay beneath the thin blanket, his breathing shallow and uneven. Cathy knelt and took his cold hand.

“Papa.”

His eyelids fluttered open. She kissed his knuckles. “Don't worry about the medicine. It finishes tomorrow, but my cybersecurity contract pays today. I'll get the refill before we run out. I promise.”

Her father squeezed her fingers weakly. A tear slipped down his hollow cheek. “Just be careful at school. Don't fight anyone. You know my condition.”

“I won't.”

“Focus on your studies.” He paused, struggling for breath. “And make me proud.”

Cathy's throat tightened. “Those cybersecurity classes I enrolled you in… They’ve really saved us. Thank you for being such a good daughter.”

His words struck deeper than any insult Alex had thrown at her. Every late night behind her computer flashed through her mind—every contract, every payment, every hour spent learning while other students slept. Cathy blinked rapidly.

“I won't let you down, Papa.” She squeezed his hand. “Rest.”

She stood before the tears could escape and turned away. Her bag went over her shoulder, and her architectural project was tucked beneath her arm. Then she rushed out into the freezing dawn.

The four-mile walk to Elite Academy felt endless. Cathy glanced at the time and quickened her pace as cold wind sliced through her thrift-store blazer. She kept moving.

Then—thwack, thwack, thwack.

The duct tape on her left shoe was already coming loose. A piece of gravel slipped through the split sole and stabbed into her arch. Pain shot up her leg, but Cathy clenched her jaw and kept walking. She couldn't afford to limp. She couldn't afford to be late.

By the time she reached the final hill, her lungs burned. Ahead, the massive wrought-iron gates of Elite Academy rose above the road. Beyond them stood a world of polished cars, designer clothes, and students who would never understand what it took for her to get there.

Cathy lowered her head and pushed through the gates. Students were already crossing the grand plaza in cashmere coats and pristine sneakers. She adjusted her bag and tried to disappear into the crowd. Three steps. Then her momentum died.

Someone was leaning against a stone pillar directly in her path. Alex Vance. His sharp eyes found her immediately. Cathy's breath caught. Alex straightened, and a slow smile appeared on his face. There was no escape.