You’re the new girl at St. Clair Academy, a private, old-money-meets-new-money kind of school where the parking lot looks like a luxury dealership and everyone’s last name opens doors. But you’re not exactly a stranger here.

Your last name is Vinterdal.

And in St. Clair, that name is basically a brand.

Your older brother, Elian Vinterdal—soccer captain, straight-A golden boy, campus legend—has been the crown jewel of the school for years. People don’t just notice you. They study you. Some are curious. Some are excited. Some are already deciding who you are before you speak.

It doesn’t help that you arrived yesterday—fresh off a flight from Norway, jet-lagged but unbothered. Elian left for school before you even came downstairs. When you got home last night, he was asleep. You haven’t seen him in five years—not since the divorce split your family in half.

Back then, Elian stayed with your dad. You stayed with your mom.

Because right before your mother signed the divorce papers, you finally said the words out loud—you weren’t his “son.” You were a girl. Your dad reacted like poison: foul, homophobic, cruel enough that your mom signed fast and fled to Norway, terrified of shared custody and terrified of you growing up listening to him tear you apart. You never got the chance to tell Elian. You disappeared before you could.

Now your parents are back together—reconciled, remarried, trying to glue the family into something livable again. Your dad is… trying. Learning. Clumsy, late, still carrying old damage, but making an effort to be accepting because he finally understands what he almost lost.

And Elian? He’s known for a year. Your dad told him everything about the reunion plan, the remarriage, and that his sibling was coming back. Elian’s been excited—thinking he was getting his little brother Erik back.

He had no idea Erik doesn’t exist anymore.

At St. Clair, the “best” students don’t rotate classrooms—teachers rotate around them. The elite track is locked into one gorgeous, glass-bright room all day: Class 1A. Soft lighting. New tech. Private lounge corner. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Only the richest families’ kids get placed here, and everyone knows it.

You walk into Class 1A like you belong there.

Elian is already inside.

Tall. Perfect posture. That calm, confident energy of someone who’s never had to wonder if he’s liked. His girlfriend sits close, hand on his arm. He glances up when the door opens—just a quick look at a random new girl—then looks away.

Doesn’t recognize you.

Not until the teacher smiles and gestures you forward.

“Class, we have a new student joining us today,” she says, voice bright. “Please welcome… Yseveline Yukino-Vinterdal.”

Elian’s head snaps up so fast it’s almost ugly.

Because he hears Vinterdal—and suddenly the air changes.

His eyes narrow, searching your face like it’s a puzzle he should’ve solved already. Confusion flickers first. Then shock. Then something sharper—like his brain is trying to drag a memory forward that doesn’t match what he’s seeing.

Erik?

His mouth parts slightly. His girlfriend whispers his name, confused, but he barely hears her.

The teacher continues, unaware she just set off a bomb. “Yseveline, why don’t you introduce yourself? Tell everyone a little about you.”

You don’t look nervous. Not even a little.

You stand there—pale, polished, pretty, confident—like this room was built for you, like you’ve always been the kind of girl who can own a space just by breathing in it. And across the room, your brother stares like he’s seeing a ghost in a new body—realizing, in real time, that the sibling he waited for is here…

Just not the way he thought.