Before her family’s estrangement, the University of Uriel had been Blair’s haven, where her ambitions had room to breathe and her talent could shine freely. The sprawling campus, with its sunlit courtyards and stately buildings, had once represented everything she dreamed of—a future filled with achievements. Each project, every research, and even the late nights spent poring over books had been part of a journey she’d embraced with fierce dedication and joy.

Now, as she stepped onto campus, the familiar grounds felt suffocating. The morning air was thick with an unsettling dread, as if she were entering a haunted castle shrouded in toxic mist, where whispers echoed with harsh judgment and scorn. She could feel it—the sense that she no longer belonged, that she wasn’t welcome here. Even she resented her presence in this place now.

But despite how deeply Blair detested it, she knew dropping out wasn’t an option. So, no matter how torturous each day was, she forced herself to go forward, knowing that her only path to live decently lay in walking through this crucible.

The morning air felt heavier than usual as she entered the business department building, a subtle sense of dread stirring in her gut. Something was amiss, though she couldn’t quite identify what it was. The usual bustling energy seemed muted, replaced by an almost eerie silence as she walked down the hallway. The students scattered along her path averted their gazes, avoiding eye contact as if they were afraid to look her way.

Entering the lecture hall, she moved to her usual seat, sinking down slowly as her mind raced to make sense of the strange atmosphere. As she settled in, a thought crossed her mind—she hadn’t seen Ezra anywhere. Turning her head to check if he might be in the row behind hers, her gaze froze, and her heart skipped a beat.

Sitting comfortably in Ezra’s usual spot was none other than Spencer Brooks. His bright, charming smile contrasted with the chilly glint in his amber eyes. The moment he met her gaze, he tilted his head toward her and whispered with feigned sweetness, “Looking for your fiancé?”

His words itched in her ears just as the professor entered the room, and Spencer’s attention shifted seamlessly. He raised a hand, his tone casual yet respectful, as he addressed the professor, “You mind if I sat in on today’s lecture?”

Ms. Amanda, their middle-aged professor, appeared surprised, but a faint blush crept into her cheeks. She managed a warm smile as she replied, “Of course not, Spencer! It’s always a pleasure to see old classmates reconnecting.” With a quick, encouraging nod, she gestured to the seat beside Blair. “Please, take a seat right there.”

As Spencer slid into the seat beside her, Blair felt a chill creep up her spine.

Moments later, she noticed a small, neatly folded note that had been slid across the edge of her notebook. She hesitated, glancing sideways at Spencer, who was staring straight ahead with an expression of complete boldness. His lips twitched as if he were trying to suppress a grin.

With careful motion, she unfolded the note.

*Curious about where your fiancé is?*

Her heart skipped a beat. She turned her head slightly, meeting Spencer’s gaze as he flashed her a flirtatious wink. She swallowed hard and deliberately shredded the note into pieces, signaling that she wasn’t interested in engaging with him.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed his lips pressing into a thin line. Moments later, another piece of paper slid onto her desk. She fought the urge to sigh, acutely aware of his unwavering gaze upon her. With hesitant fingers, she unfolded the note, bracing herself for its contents.

*Aren’t you curious about what I might do to him?*

He watched her intently, anticipating the inevitable flicker of fear or curiosity. To his surprise—and perhaps with a hint of amusement—she simply tore the note again, her expression calm and poised, as if completely unfazed by his words.

The crisp note slid across her desk, coming to a halt just beside her hand. Blair’s fingers twitched as she gazed at the message, a chill creeping up her spine even before she opened it.

*Do you want to know who pushed Diane?*

Her breath caught as she glanced at Spencer, who was watching her with a look of silent, mocking triumph. His amber eyes glittered with dark amusement, as if he relished the reaction he knew he had provoked. For the first time, Blair felt her composure falter, the question echoing in her mind with an ominous gravity.

Spencer tilted his head slightly, a pleased smile curving his lips. He mouthed, “Meet me on the rooftop?”

Blair froze, her mind racing as Spencer slipped out of the room, leaving her with that unsettling invitation. His smile lingered in her thoughts—a smile that concealed secrets, threats, and something even more troubling: knowledge. Her fingers trembled slightly as she pressed them against her desk, forcing herself to breathe.

“How did Spencer know about Diane?” she wondered, a shiver running down her spine. Diane’s accident had been tragic and unexpected—an isolated incident without witnesses. At least, that’s what she had believed. But now, doubts swirled within her, each thought more disturbing than the last.

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Was it possible that Diane’s fall hadn’t been an accident? Could it have been staged—a deliberate ploy intended to damage her life and reputation? Her stomach twisted as she contemplated the implications. If Spencer knew something, it meant that someone else had been there, lurking in the shadows and watching everything unfold.

Ms. Amanda’s voice faded as her pulse thundered in her ears. She glanced back at the note, its torn pieces scattered across her desk like fragments of a truth she had been too naïve to recognize. Every small, overlooked detail now felt ominous, each memory tainted with suspicion. *See me on the rooftop,* he said. But could she trust anything he told her, or was this merely the beginning of another trap?

As the bell rang, signaling the end of class, Blair remained seated, her mind a whirlwind of unanswered questions while her classmates gathered their belongings, slipping into quiet conversations as they head out, absorbed in their own routines. However, Blair felt moored to her seat, torn between the safe choice of leaving and the risky option of meeting Spencer on the rooftop.

Just then, she noticed Mike lingering by the doorway, his gaze fixed on her. His eyes radiated a hard, simmering anger, as if he had been waiting for this moment. The intensity of his glare made Blair feel uneasy. She straightened and finally asked, “Do you have a problem?”

He sneered, crossing his arms. “Yeah, actually. It’s thanks to your crazy fiancé.”

Blair’s confusion deepened. “Fiance?” She repeated, puzzled by his words. As far as she knew, Ezra’s classmates had assumed that his girlfriend was Samantha. ”What are you talking about?”

Mike’s expression darkened as he stepped closer. “Come on. Don’t act so clueless, Blair. Aren’t you curious why Ezra isn’t here today?”

Her pulse quickened. She had been wondering, but hearing it in Mike’s accusatory tone made it feel something was off. “Why?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mike let out a harsh, mocking laugh, his voice dripping with disdain. “He lost it on us yesterday,” he said, barely keeping his voice down, though the few classmates still present had turned to watch the exchange with curious glances. “He smashed our phones, calling us all a bunch of idiots for believing those lies on the campus forum.”

Blair’s heart raced as she attempted to comprehend his words. “Ezra…” she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else.

“Yeah, Ezra,” Mike scoffed, interrupting her daze. “He’s been going on about how if you ever were pregnant, it’d be ‘his’ kid, and that he’d never abandon his child.”

Blair felt her stomach twist as he continued. “He made sure everyone knew the rumors were nonsense and that you never gave birth to anyone’s kid.”

Blair’s fingers tightened around the edge of her notebook as she absorbed Mike’s words. Unexpected warmth bloomed within her. *Ezra had stood up for her, claimed her so fiercely—even hypothetically taking responsibility for a child that never existed.* His words echoed in her mind, and she couldn’t help the subtle lift in her lips, a quiet, inward smile barely concealed. She had loved him for so long, and now, knowing he would go to such lengths… it made her heart feel lighter, even amid the chaos surrounding them.

Blair’s gaze shifted back to Mike, her tone oddly calm and a hint curious. “So… was I the reason you and Ezra fought so violently last time?”

A flash of guilt flickered across Mike’s face, but he tried to mask it with a shrug. “Maybe. I might’ve said something he didn’t like.”

“What did you say?” she pressed, her voice even but piercing.

Mike hesitated, his shoulders tensing. “I… called you a—well, he didn’t like it when I called you a wh***” He trailed off as Blair’s eyes hardened.

“Lucky for you, there were people around. Or else he might’ve killed you,” she said, her tone were complete serious. Her gaze held his, unwavering, and a chill seemed to pass over him.

Mike shifted uncomfortably, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “Y-You’re kidding, right? Ezra couldn’t really… I mean, he wouldn’t kill someone over… that?”

Her gaze drifted past Mike, her mind spiraling back to a memory from her middle school.

Blair stayed behind for extra classes, and by the time she finally left, the campus had fallen quiet, most of the students already gone. As she walked further away from the gate, she reached an isolated stretch of the street. A faint noise caught her attention—a distant commotion that broke the eerie stillness.

Her heart quickened as she saw Ezra, standing in the center of the chaos. He fought with the same boys who had been relentlessly picking on her for weeks, ever since she’d rejected one of them. They had teamed up with girls who despised her for reasons Blair could only guess.

He was handling the situation with frightening ease. He dodged every punch thrown at him, blocked every swing, and made every single one hit the ground, groaning in pain. Ezra hadn’t even broken a sweat, his composure as perfect as ever. His eyes glinted with the same icy calm he always wore, but there was an intensity to him that terrified Blair.

“Ezra!” she called, her voice shaking as she finally forced herself to move. “Stop!”

Blair rushed forward, putting herself between Ezra and the boys, her hands trembling as she faced him. “That’s enough,” she mumbled, barely able to meet his eyes. “Please…”

Ezra lowered his fist, the fire in his eyes still burning. He glared at the group sprawled on the ground and growled, “Scram.” As the boys scrambled to their feet, he added coldly, “If you mess with her again, I won’t be so forgiving.” His jaw clenched as he watched them limp away, defeated.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was low, but it carried a dangerous edge that sent chills down Blair’s spine.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I know they’d eventually stop.”

Ezra’s eyes narrowed, his fists still clenched at his sides. “They’ve been harassing you for weeks, Blair! Do you think this is something you can just handle alone?”

Blair bit her lip, unable to answer. She knew how terrifying Ezra could be when he was angry, and right now, the weight of his fury pressed down on her like a physical force.

“I told you to tell me if anything happened,” Ezra continued, his voice low and simmering with barely contained rage. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

She couldn’t meet his gaze. “I didn’t want to drag you into it. I thought… if I kept quiet, they’d eventually stop.”

“They didn’t,” Ezra shot back, stepping closer. “And they wouldn’t have. Keeping quiet only made it worse. You should’ve told me.”

Ezra took a breath, forcing himself to calm down, though his eyes still burned with intensity. “Next time, you tell me. Understand? Or else I will do more than a bunch of punch.”

She nodded weakly, not trusting herself to speak.

Blair tilted her head, an enigmatic smile playing at her lips. “You’ll never know if you wouldn’t do it again, Mike,” she replied softly, the edge in her voice making him gulp.