The hallway was too quiet.
Not the usual after-class noise and chatter—the silence felt intentional, like the air itself was waiting for me to slip.
I pushed open my locker. A folded note fell out, crisp and clean.
"Stop pretending you're innocent."
My fingertips froze.
Another one.
This week alone, it was the fourth.
I scanned the hallway. No one looked suspicious—no one looked at me at all. They had gotten better at pretending I didn't exist… except when they needed someone to blame.
Footsteps approached from behind. Soft, quick—hesitant.
I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
"Did you… get another one?" Leon Lin's voice was low, careful.
He always spoke to me as if touching something fragile.
I crushed the paper in my hand. "It doesn't matter."
"It does." He took one step closer. "This isn't normal, Sierra."
"Normal?" I laughed, a half-breath sound that didn't reach my throat. "Being hated is perfectly normal for the villainess, right? Isn't that how the story goes?"
He frowned. "You're not her."
No.I wasn't.
But the world didn't care.
Before I could reply, a flash went off—camera shutter, too close.
We both turned.
A girl I didn't recognize lowered her phone, fake-sweet smile curling. "Oops. Didn't see you there."
Leon's voice hardened instantly. "Delete it."
"Why?" she tilted her head. "I'm just documenting… school life."
Her gaze lingered on me like I was a stain.
Then she sauntered away.
I swallowed. "Don't make trouble because of me."
"It's trouble for me if I do nothing."
That stunned me.
He didn't wait for my response, simply reached out and plucked the crushed note out of my hand. His finger brushed mine—warm, steady, in contrast to my icy knuckles.
"I'll deal with this," he said.
"No."It came out sharper than I intended.
He lifted his eyes.
"I'll deal with it," I repeated, softer. "I need to."
He didn't argue this time. His expression shifted—like he finally understood something about me. Something raw.
"Then at least…" He hesitated. "Let me walk with you."
I opened my mouth to refuse—But a voice interrupted.
"Sierra?"
I stiffened.
Jenna Yang stood at the end of the hallway, notebook in hand, eyes flicking between Leon and me.
She looked… conflicted. Torn.
"Can we talk?" she asked.
I exchanged a glance with Leon.
"Go," he said quietly. "I'll wait."
We stepped outside to a quieter corridor.
Jenna took a breath. "I… found something."
My heart tensed.
She opened her notebook to a page filled with screenshots. Anonymous posts. Comments. Coordinated timing.
"You were right about the account that started the rumor," she said. "It wasn't a student. It was paid."
The air thinned.
"Paid?" I echoed.
She nodded. "A marketing studio. Small. Local. I checked the IPs."
"And?" My voice trembled without permission.
"One of the payments came from an account with a surname… Lin."
My blood froze.
"Same characters as Leon's family," she added, voice barely audible. "I'm not saying it's him—just… someone with access."
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
Not again.Not another betrayal.
Jenna reached toward me, hesitant. "I didn't want to believe it either. But you asked me to help you find the truth. So… I am."
Truth.The word tasted like rust.
I forced myself to inhale.
"Thank you," I whispered.
She looked at me with a mixture of worry and guilt.
"What will you do?" she asked.
I stared toward the hallway where Leon was waiting. His silhouette framed by afternoon sun. Gentle. Quiet.
Loyal?
Or only pretending?
A crack opened in my chest—hairline but deep.
"I don't know," I said.
But I would find out.
Because this time, I wasn't the villainess waiting for her fate.
I was the one rewriting it.