Chapter 1 – Rebirth in Shadows
Page 3 (Part 3/5)
Claire Nuñez prided herself on being level-headed. Out of the three of them, she was the one least likely to be swept away by theatrics. That was why Jim leaned on her, why Toby always sought her approval, why she felt the need to anchor them both when things got weird.
And Seraphine was definitely weird.
Claire watched her carefully over the next few days—too carefully, Seraphine noted with silent satisfaction. Every word Seraphine said, every expression she wore, Claire catalogued like evidence. Her eyes narrowed whenever Seraphine laughed too lightly or deflected too smoothly.
The suspicion was obvious. And Seraphine loved it.
Because suspicion was only the first step toward doubt.
It came to a head during Spanish class. They were seated in a cluster near the back, books open, when Claire leaned across her desk.
"Okay," she whispered sharply, eyes fixed on Seraphine. "What's your deal?"
Jim, caught off guard, looked between them. "Claire—"
"No." Claire's tone was clipped. "She's hiding something. I know it."
Seraphine let her lips part in the softest gasp, her eyes wide, hurt shimmering like glass about to crack. She didn't answer immediately. She let the silence stretch, let Jim's discomfort grow, let Toby shift anxiously in his seat.
Finally, her voice trembled. "Why would you say that?"
Claire's resolve wavered, just slightly. But she pressed on. "Because nothing about you adds up. You show up out of nowhere, everyone suddenly wants to be around you, and now Toby's acting like you're some kind of magician."
Jim frowned. "Claire…"
Seraphine bowed her head, shoulders curling inward, whispering just loud enough for them to hear. "I knew this would happen. People always assume the worst."
It wasn't an answer, not really. But the guilt it planted worked instantly. Jim's expression softened, torn between concern for Seraphine and loyalty to Claire. Toby looked outright distressed, ready to leap to her defense.
And Claire—Claire froze, uncertainty flickering across her face.
Good, Seraphine thought, pressing the advantage.
"You don't have to like me," she whispered, voice cracking with just the right fragility. "But don't… don't make people hate me before they even know me. I'm just trying to fit in."
The weight of those words sank like a stone. Jim shifted uncomfortably, guilt darkening his eyes. Toby muttered, "See, Claire? You're being harsh…"
Claire's mouth opened, then closed again. She looked down at her desk, frustration and doubt warring in her expression.
Seraphine kept her face soft, wounded, but inside she was smiling.
One thread of suspicion cut. A seed of guilt planted. Soon, Claire wouldn't know whether to trust her instincts at all.
After class, Jim lingered. "Hey," he said quietly, catching Seraphine by the lockers. "Don't let Claire get to you. She's… protective, that's all."
Seraphine tilted her head, letting her lashes lower as she whispered, "I don't blame her. I'd be suspicious too."
The admission disarmed him, as she knew it would. His frown eased, replaced by reluctant admiration.
"She just doesn't know you yet," he said.
"Maybe." Seraphine let her fingers brush the strap of her bag. "But I want her to. I want both of you to."
Jim blinked, thrown by the quiet intensity of her gaze. For just a moment, he looked like he might ask why.
Seraphine broke eye contact first, the perfect blend of mystery and humility. Leave them wanting more. Always.
That evening, Claire replayed the conversation over and over. Lying on her bed, textbooks forgotten, she frowned up at the ceiling.
Something about Seraphine wasn't right. She felt it in her bones.
But she also remembered the raw hurt in Seraphine's eyes, the way her voice cracked. What if she'd been too harsh? What if she was wrong?
The thought unsettled her.
Which was exactly what Seraphine intended.