chapter 2
That rumor held steady all the way through high school—until sophomore year, when she showed up.
Her name was Sadie.
Long dark hair. Innocent face. She turned heads, not because she was stunning, but because she looked almost exactly like me. Even the aloof, don’t-touch-me vibe was a cheap imitation, like she’d studied my posture in a mirror and practiced it in secret.
I saw Roman stare at her as she walked past us.
Sadie flicked her hair and shot me a look that was pure provocation.
What she didn’t notice was Roman’s brow tightening, just slightly—an expression of faint, immediate disgust, like something unpleasant had drifted into his airspace.
After first period, my teacher called me into her office.
“As class president,” she said, “please take care of the new student.”
I nodded because that’s what I always did. I played nice. I handled problems. I smoothed things over.
When I got back, Roman was waiting for me, leaning against the doorway like he’d been left alone for too long.
The moment he saw me, his face lit up. He pushed off the frame and walked toward me, his whole body relaxing in a way it never did for anyone else.
Sadie happened to pass at that exact moment.
She stumbled—perfect timing, perfect angle—right toward Roman’s chest.
Roman didn’t catch her.
He took one step back.
Sadie hit the floor hard, more dramatic than necessary, and Roman didn’t even glance down. He was already at my side, smiling like the hallway had gone from gray to color.
“What’s up?” he asked, as if nothing else existed.
“Teacher needed something,” I said.
On the floor, Sadie delivered her lines with impressive timing. She looked up, eyes glossy, voice shaking just enough to sound helpless.
“Sienna… I just got here. I didn’t do anything to you. Did I? Why would you do that?”
A few kids in the hall slowed. Heads turned. Sadie thought she’d won.
She didn’t get it.
This was our school.
They weren’t looking at her with pity.
They were watching a disaster unfold.