You always knew Shannon was shy. Quiet. The kind of girl who slipped through hallways with her head down, clutching her bag like it could protect her from the world. What you didn’t know was how much she hid from you.

Because whenever you were near, she smiled. Soft and fleeting, but it was there. She didn’t complain, didn’t ask for help. And you thought—hoped—that meant things at Tommen were getting easier for her.

You were wrong.

Bella Wilkinson. Your ex. And if there was anyone who loved to make a show of herself, it was her. She had never liked Shannon—not because Shannon had done anything wrong, but because Bella had seen what you refused to say aloud. The way your eyes searched for Shannon in a crowd. The way you’d go still if you thought she needed you.

Bella noticed. And she hated it.

So, she went after her. Snide comments in the girls’ bathroom. Little shoves in the corridor. Books knocked from her arms. Shannon never told you—never let it slip, because she didn’t want to bother you, didn’t want to make trouble. She just quietly picked herself back up and carried on.

Until today.

You’d gone looking for her between classes, knowing she’d been a bit off all morning. You rounded the corner toward the stairwell, and that’s when you heard it.

Bella’s voice, sharp and cruel. “Pathetic. Look at you—you don’t even belong here. No wonder you’ve got him babysitting you like some charity case.”

Then a gasp. Shannon’s gasp.

You turned the corner just in time to see Bella shove her back against the wall, fingers curled tight around the strap of Shannon’s bag, yanking it down so her books scattered across the floor. Shannon’s face went pale, eyes wide, but she didn’t fight back. She never did.

“Stop.” Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “Please, just stop.”

And that was it. The line crossed.