A GIRL NAMED NOVA.
The sound of papers scattering across the marble floor echoed down the hall.
“Oh, I’m so sor—”
My voice trailed off as my eyes met hers.
Mira.
Her perfectly manicured lips curled into a smirk, the kind that screamed I’ve been waiting for this.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the scholarship girl who thinks she’s a queen now,” she sneered, brushing imaginary dust from her designer blazer. “What’s wrong, Nova? Forgot how to watch where you’re going, or are you too used to walking over people now that you’ve got money?”