The morning passed smoother than I ever remembered reading in the original novel.
No humiliation.No cruel laughter.No viral video waiting to be uploaded.No domino tipping toward the destruction of the Song family.
But peace was never meant to last in a world written for my suffering.
The moment the lunch bell rang, I knew the next battle was waiting.
Students poured out of the classroom in waves. Chatter filled the hallway—light, careless, the soundtrack of people who had never been forced to fight for their own survival.
I gathered my notebooks slowly.
The sunlight had shifted, drawing new patterns across the polished floor.For a moment, I allowed myself a breath—quiet, steady, victorious.
I had changed the first page of the story.
But the novel was hundreds of pages long.
A shadow fell across my desk.
I didn't need to look up to know who it was.
Vivian Shen.
Her perfume arrived before she did—soft, floral, deceptively innocent.
"Sierra," she said sweetly.
I turned toward her with my most polite smile.
"Yes, Vivian?"
Her eyes glimmered like glass—beautiful, cold, breakable only from within.
"I heard something interesting," she murmured, leaning one manicured hand on my desk. "You moved seats during homeroom. That's… unusual."
"You think so?" I replied mildly.
"Very," she said. "You never do anything without making a scene."
In the original story? True.Sierra had been a perfect match for Vivian: reactive, emotional, messy.
But that Sierra was gone.
I let my smile soften, almost apologetic.
"I just wanted to study."
Vivian blinked once.
Then she laughed.
A soft, melodic sound that carried just enough edge to chill the air around us.
"Oh, Sierra," she said, brushing a curl behind her ear. "Don't pretend with me. It doesn't suit you."
Her gaze sharpened.
"You're up to something."
I tilted my head, eyes wide with innocence.
"And you're… worried?"
Her jaw tightened.
Small win: achieved.
Vivian Shen hated nothing more than losing control.
She leaned closer, voice low so only I could hear.
"I don't know what game you're playing," she whispered, "but you won't win."
I smiled back.
"Then you'd better play harder."
For a moment—just a moment—she lost her perfect composure.
Her eyes flashed, dark and furious.
Then she straightened, plastering on her angelic mask.
"Lunch time," she chirped loudly. "Don't be late for group assignments later, Sierra."
She strutted out of the classroom, her heels slicing through the air like knives.
The moment she disappeared, I let out the breath I'd been holding.
Vivian wasn't someone to underestimate.Her cruelty was not chaotic—it was calculated.Her reputation wasn't an accident—it was curated.
And most importantly?
She knew how to pull strings behind the scenes.
Which meant…
She wasn't alone.
The recording boy from earlier? A pawn.Her social circle? Shields, not allies.
But the real danger was the person who supported her silently—the one connected to the Song family downfall.
The one Sierra never discovered in her past life.
Not this time.
I packed my bag and headed toward the hallway, my mind sharp.
The school cafeteria was a sprawling maze of noise and privilege.Students were segregated naturally—by wealth, influence, beauty.
A cruel ecosystem, ruled by people like Vivian.
And once, by the old Sierra.
Whispers followed me as I walked.
"She's acting weird today.""Did you hear? She didn't fight back this morning.""Maybe she finally snapped.""Or she's planning something."
Good.
Let them wonder.
Let them fear the unknown.
At least that gave me an advantage.
I reached the quieter side of the cafeteria—the area most students avoided because it was too close to the administrative wing.
Perfect.
Fewer eyes. Fewer ears.
As I sat down with a tray of food I had no appetite for, I opened a notebook and began reconstructing the chain of events leading to my father's downfall.
Rule #1: The attack on my father begins with a rumor at school.Rule #2: That rumor is planted by someone with access to internal documents.Rule #3: That someone must be connected to the Lin family.
Which meant…
My eyes drifted across the cafeteria.
Leon Lin sat at a table with three other boys—the kind of heirs who didn't need to announce their power.His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were alert.He listened more than he spoke.
A dangerous trait.
In the original story, Sierra had been too blinded by infatuation to notice the truth:
Leon had never been cruel.He had simply never chosen her side.
But now?
His gaze lifted.
Straight to me.
Our eyes met.
Not casually.Not accidentally.
As if he had been watching.
As if he had been waiting.
Heat pricked across my skin.
Leon didn't look away.
Neither did I.
Finally, he blinked slowly—almost a nod—before turning back to his conversation.
A warning?Or an acknowledgment?
I wasn't sure.
But I didn't have time to dwell on it.
"Sierra!"
I looked up as Jenna Yang plopped down across from me, dropping her bag with a thud.
"You ditched me all morning," she accused, narrowing her eyes. "Are you sick? Possessed? Did Vivian poison your breakfast?"
I laughed despite myself.
"No. I'm fine."
"Liar," she said immediately. "You moved seats today. You ignored Vivian's bait. You're not even yelling. Who are you and what have you done with Sierra Song?"
Her dramatic whisper drew a few curious looks.
I lowered my voice.
"Jenna… can you keep a secret?"
Her eyes widened.
"Oh my god," she breathed. "You are possessed."
I rolled my eyes.
"It's not like that. I just… realized I can't keep living like before."
She sobered instantly.
Her playful expression softened, turning protective.
"Sierra," she said quietly, "did someone threaten you?"
"If they did," she added fiercely, "I'll destroy them."
Warmth flooded my chest.
In the original novel, Jenna had been the only person who stood by Sierra until the end.The only person who saw the real her.
And the only person Sierra never deserved.
"I'm okay," I assured her gently. "But everything is going to be different from now on."
Jenna studied me closely.
"…You mean it."
"I do."
She leaned back, crossing her arms.
"Fine. But if you're planning something big, tell me. I'm not letting you fight alone."
Her voice was too loud on the last word.
Students turned to look.
Leon's eyes flickered toward us for a moment.
I exhaled slowly.
"This is going to be harder than I thought," I muttered.
"Everything with you is hard," Jenna said cheerfully.
Before I could argue, someone slid into the seat beside me.
I stiffened.
Leon Lin.
Up close, he smelled faintly of cedar and steel.
"Sierra," he said calmly. "We need to talk."
Jenna choked on her juice.
I blinked.
"About… what?"
Leon rested his elbows on the table, his gaze piercing.
"You're different today."
My heartbeat stumbled.
Jenna leaned between us.
"She's always been different, thanks."
Leon ignored her.
He focused entirely on me.
"You avoided the incident this morning," he said softly."You moved away from the recording boy.And you watched Vivian the whole time."
My fingers tightened around my chopsticks.
He saw everything.
Leon wasn't cold.
He was observant.
And observant people were dangerous.
I swallowed.
"So what if I am different?" I asked lightly.
Leon didn't blink.
"Then," he said, voice dropping low, "you should be careful. This school doesn't forgive quiet rebellions."
A chill slid down my spine.
This wasn't a threat.
It was a warning.
But before I could answer, a shadow fell over our table.
A boy I didn't recognize stood there—tall, handsome in a forgettable way, expression strangely blank.
He placed a folded note beside my tray.
"For you," he said.
Then he walked away without another word.
Leon's gaze darkened.
Jenna leaned forward, hissing.
"Who the hell was that?"
I opened the note.
A single line was written inside, in neat handwriting:
"Your father wasn't framed by accident.Don't trust the people closest to the truth."
My blood ran cold.
The signature was even worse.
A single letter.
L.
Leon stared at the note.
Jenna stared at me.
I stared at the empty seat where the mysterious boy had stood.
The world around me spun slowly, as if the universe was shifting into place piece by piece.
Someone else knew the truth.
Someone else knew what was coming.
Someone else was watching me.
This story wasn't mine alone anymore.
The real game had begun.