A GIRL NAMED NOVA.
The sound was soft, trembling, uncertain—like me.
The door creaked open. Clara stepped in, her expression filled with worry.
“I told you not to come today,” she said gently.
“I had to,” I replied. “If I stayed home, they’d think they won.”
She sighed and sat beside me. “You don’t have to prove anything to them, Nova.”
I looked down at my hands. “It’s not about them anymore. It’s about me. I need to face it.”
She hesitated, then whispered, “Daniel posted the video on his I*******m too. He captioned it—‘Know your level.’”