Westbridge Academy sat on a stretch of quiet countryside far from any major town — the kind of place parents described as prestigious and students described as inescapable.

Old brick buildings formed a loose square around the central courtyard, their tall windows glowing faintly in the late afternoon light. Gravel paths cut across carefully maintained lawns, and the sound of distant voices carried from the sports fields beyond the main hall.

Everything at Westbridge ran on schedules.

Morning bells. Evening study periods. Strict curfews.

Students lived in shared dormitories, attended classes together, ate in the same crowded dining hall, and joined clubs or sports whether they wanted to or not.

There were classrooms filled with half-finished notes and whispered conversations, a massive library that stayed quiet even during exam season, and common rooms that never seemed to empty.

Everyone knew everyone else.

Reputations formed fast — and stuck even faster.

Some students thrived here.

Others counted the days until holidays.