Lila knew the room had turned against her before anyone said a word.
It was subtle at first—the pause in conversation when she entered, the way heads tilted just a fraction too long. The seminar room at St. Albion was all glass walls and polished tables, sunlight spilling in like it belonged there. Lila didn't. Not really. And today, she felt it in her bones.
"Okay," Mr. Carter said, clapping his hands once. "Final projects. Groups of four. You'll submit your proposals by the end of the week."
A groan rippled through the room.
Lila slid into her chair beside Maya, dropping her notebook on the table. "Please tell me I don't end up with—"
"With who?" Maya whispered, already smiling like she knew the answer.
Lila didn't get to finish.
"Perfect," Sofia's voice cut in smoothly. "Looks like fate works overtime."
Lila looked up.
Sofia Vale stood across from their table, flawless as always—tailored blazer, soft waves in her hair, confidence stitched into every movement. She rested one manicured hand on the chair opposite Ethan.
Ethan, who hadn't looked at Lila since the hallway incident two days ago.
Ethan, who now looked at her.
Briefly. Too briefly.
Mr. Carter glanced at the list on his tablet. "Yes, Sofia. You, Ethan, Lila, and Maya. That works."
"That works?" Maya muttered. "That's not a group, that's a battlefield."
Sofia smiled sweetly as she sat. "Don't be dramatic. We're all adults here."
"Some of us," Maya replied.
Lila shot her a warning look, then turned to Mr. Carter. "Sir, is there—"
"No changes," he said mildly, already moving on. "Learning to collaborate across differences is part of the exercise."
Across differences.
Sofia's eyes flicked down to Lila's worn shoes, then back up. "I couldn't agree more."
Ethan cleared his throat. "So. Project planning."
His voice did something unpleasant to Lila's concentration. Calm. Controlled. Like the last time they spoke hadn't ended with her heart pounding and his eyes dark with something unspoken.
She opened her notebook. "What's the topic?"
"Socioeconomic influence on educational access," Sofia said instantly. "It's timely. Political. And very… us."
Lila stiffened. "That's broad."
"It's layered," Sofia corrected. "Not everyone can handle nuance."
Maya leaned forward. "Funny. I was thinking the same about empathy."
Sofia ignored her. "Ethan?"
He hesitated. Just a second. Enough for Lila to notice.
"It works," he said finally. "But only if we ground it in real cases. Otherwise it's just theory."
Lila looked at him then. Really looked.
His jaw was tight, like he was bracing for something. For her?
"I can do the field research," she said. "Scholarship programs, working students, people balancing jobs and school."
Sofia laughed lightly. "Of course you can."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Lila asked.
"Oh, nothing." Sofia tilted her head. "Just that lived experience is so… valuable."
The table went quiet.
Maya's fingers curled around her pen. "You're unbelievable."
"I'm honest," Sofia replied. "There's a difference."
Ethan finally met Lila's gaze. "She's right about one thing," he said, voice even. "Your input matters."
It wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic.
But it landed.
Lila swallowed. "Thanks."
Sofia's smile tightened. "Well. I'll handle the framework and presentation. Ethan, you'll deal with data analysis. Maya can… assist."
"And Lila?" Maya asked.
Sofia shrugged. "She can tell stories."
Lila pushed her chair back slightly. "I don't tell stories. I present facts."
"Do you?" Sofia leaned in, lowering her voice. "Or do you just survive and call it insight?"
"That's enough," Ethan said sharply.
Sofia blinked, surprised. Then she laughed again. "Relax. I'm just motivating."
Lila gathered her notebook, hands steady despite the heat in her chest. "I'll send my research notes by tomorrow."
Sofia waved her off. "Take your time."
Class ended with forced politeness and unspoken hostility. Chairs scraped. Conversations resumed.
Maya grabbed Lila's arm the moment they were in the hallway. "She's baiting you."
"I know."
"And she's not subtle."
"I know."
Maya lowered her voice. "There's something else. I heard her earlier, talking to those girls from the council."
Lila paused. "About what?"
"About you." Maya hesitated. "About your last name. And Ethan's."
Lila frowned. "What about them?"
Maya exhaled. "She said, 'It's always amusing when history repeats itself.'"
A chill slid down Lila's spine. "That doesn't make sense."
"Nothing about her does," Maya said. "Just—be careful."
They split ways at the courtyard. Lila walked slower than usual, thoughts tangling.
History repeats itself.
Her mother's voice echoed faintly in her memory.
Some doors stay closed for a reason, anak.
She hadn't thought about those stories in years—the half-finished sentences, the moments when Catherine would go quiet mid-thought, eyes distant. Lila used to think it was just nostalgia. Regret.
Now, she wasn't so sure.
She stopped by the vending machines, leaning against the wall, breathing.
"You okay?"
She looked up.
Ethan stood a few steps away, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable.
"I'm fine," she said automatically.
"Didn't look like it."
She sighed. "Does it ever?"
He almost smiled. Almost.
"Sofia doesn't get to define your role," he said. "Or you."
Lila studied him. "Why do you care?"
The question hung between them.
He looked away first. "Because she crossed a line."
"That's not an answer."
"No," he agreed. "It's not."
They stood there, the noise of the school fading into background static.
"My mom used to tell stories," Lila said suddenly.
He looked back at her. "About what?"
"About people who had everything," she said. "And lost it. Or gave it up."
His shoulders stiffened.
"She never named names," Lila continued. "Just… warned me not to be impressed by power. Said it always comes with a price."
Ethan's voice was quieter when he spoke. "Do you believe her?"
"I think she paid that price herself."
Something flickered across his face. Recognition? Guilt?
Before she could ask, Sofia's laughter echoed down the hall.
Ethan stepped back. "We should… focus on the project."
"Right," Lila said. "The project."
He nodded once and walked away.
Lila stayed where she was, heart unsettled.
As she turned the corner, Sofia's voice drifted toward her—low, conspiratorial.
"—I swear, it's uncanny. A Grimwood girl, walking these halls again like she belongs."
Lila froze.
"History really does have a sense of humor," Sofia continued.
Lila's fingers curled into fists.
Grimwood girl.
She didn't know why the words hit so hard.
But she knew one thing with terrifying clarity.
This wasn't just about a project.
And whatever story her mother had buried—
It was already clawing its way back to the surface.