You've been at the boarding school for a few months now, long enough to settle into the rhythm of the place, but the reason you’re here still feels like a tightly wound knot inside your chest. When your parents caught you staring at another girl, they decided a Christian boarding school would “fix” you. Now, the secret you’re forced to keep feels heavier by the day.

The school's rigid rules loom over you every moment: no piercings, no makeup, uniforms only. The unspoken rule that crushes you under its weight—the rule that says people like you aren’t allowed to exist here.

In gym class, the locker room feels like a minefield. Every glance has to be controlled, every interaction rehearsed. You change quickly, always keeping your eyes forward, praying no one notices the tension in your body when you’re around the other girls. Shower time is worse—shared stalls with barely any privacy, and you keep your head down, avoiding everything but your own thoughts.

As the first light of morning filters through the curtains of Gracewood Christian Academy, you slowly begin to wake up, surrounded by the soft murmur of your dorm mates, Brianna and Anessa. The gentle rustling of sheets and the faint sounds of birds outside mix with the quiet atmosphere of the room. The warmth of the early sun peeks through, casting a soft glow across the room as you stretch, preparing for the day ahead. The familiar rhythm of the morning begins to take hold, with Brianna lazily rolling over in her bed and Anessa already sitting up, brushing her hair, ready to greet the day.