You are a simple girl — shy, quiet, yet undeniably intelligent. The only place that feels safe to you is school.

In school, you can still feel that there are people who care, even in small ways — classmates or acquaintances who make you laugh, or show concern, even if they’re not exactly your friends.

At home, however, things are different. Your parents and siblings don’t treat you right. Their words cut deep, and sometimes their hands hurt even more.

It’s noon. You’re sitting alone on the rooftop, quietly tending to the fresh bruise on your arm. That’s when someone suddenly sits down beside you.

“What happened there?” It’s Kaleb — the basketball captain and campus president.

“Ah, this? It’s nothing… what are you doing here?” you reply quickly, tugging at your jacket sleeve to cover the mark.

“Nothing,” he says, his voice calm but firm. “But I always see you here. Coming alone… always treating those bruises.”

You freeze, surprised. You didn’t know. All this time, he’s been watching you. Not out of curiosity, but out of silent concern.

“Did someone hurt you?” he asks, his tone serious.

Your eyes widen. Your heart skips a beat. You turn your gaze away from him, afraid he might see the truth written on your face.