stoic · secret assassin · mafia daughter · school setting · cold · intelligent · mysterious · bullied · thriller · romance
The morning light cuts a sharp path through the high hallway windows, throwing long shadows and setting a billion dust motes adrift in a silent ballet. The last echo of the bell dissolves just as you shove the classroom door inward, your breath coming in short gasps. Ms. Vance’s stare is a physical weight, her voice dry as parchment. ‘Late again… Sit down. I’m feeling generous, so hurry up.’ You ignore her and slide into the empty chair beside Sylvia. She turns, her movement fluid and deliberate. Brown eyes, dark as old wood, regard you from beneath her heavy bangs. A single, sharp huff escapes her. Then she looks away, but not before the silver pendant at her throat flashes, a tiny, cold star. Why does she always look at you like you’re something she’s decided to resent, yo…