Chapter 4

My first day at Northwood Preparatory Academy felt like stepping onto a different planet. The campus was a sprawling expanse of perfectly green lawns and old brick buildings covered in ivy. Students drifted across the grounds in expensive uniforms, their laughter and conversations echoing in the crisp autumn air. They all looked like they belonged. I felt like an imposter.

Ms. Davis dropped me off at the main entrance, not even bothering to get out of the car.

"Your schedule is in your bag. Don't be late. And do not embarrass the Sterling name," she said, before driving away.

I walked into the main hall, a soaring space with dark wood paneling and portraits of stern-faced old men. A group of girls standing near the entrance stopped talking and stared at me as I passed. I could feel their eyes on my back, dissecting my slightly-too-big uniform and my second-hand backpack.

In my first class, American History, the teacher, Mr. Albright, was calling roll.

"Olivia Sterling?"

"Here," Olivia said from a few rows ahead of me. She didn't turn around.

"Liam Sterling?"

"Here," came Liam's flat voice from the other side of the room.

"Chloe..." Mr. Albright paused, looking at his list. "Chloe Sterling?"

A murmur went through the classroom. Heads turned. I saw a girl with blonde hair and a cruel smile lean over to her friend and whisper something. The friend giggled.

"Here," I said, my voice barely a squeak.

Olivia's back went rigid. Liam didn't move a muscle, but I could feel the coldness radiating from him across the room. They hadn't wanted me to use their name. It was another rule I had broken without knowing it.

The day got worse. The classes were moving at a pace I couldn't follow. The other students were discussing concepts I had never even heard of. In calculus, I stared at the whiteboard, a mess of symbols and equations that looked like a foreign language. The teacher called on me, and I couldn't answer. I just sat there, my face hot with humiliation, as he moved on with a sigh.

I felt a wave of despair wash over me. My mother had worked so hard for this, for me to have this education. And I was failing. I was too far behind. I didn't belong here.

I spent my lunch break alone in the library, trying to decipher my calculus textbook. It was hopeless.

When I got back to the Sterling mansion that afternoon, I went straight to my room, my failure a heavy weight in my stomach. I sat at my desk and stared at the wall.

A few hours later, there was a soft knock on my door. I opened it to find no one there. But on the floor was a sleek, silver tablet, the newest model. A small, yellow sticky note was attached to it.

In sharp, block letters, it read: DON'T BE AN EMBARRASSMENT.

There was no name, but I knew who it was from. Liam.

I picked up the tablet. It was loaded with educational software, tutoring programs, and digital versions of all my textbooks, with key passages already highlighted. It was a lifeline.

Later that evening, I saw him in the hallway. I clutched the tablet to my chest.

"Liam," I said, my voice small. "Thank you. For this."

He didn't stop walking. He didn't even look at me.

"Just use it," he said, his voice as cold as ever. He disappeared into his room, the door clicking shut behind him.

I stood there for a long moment, clutching the tablet. It wasn't an act of kindness. It was an act of damage control. He wasn't helping me. He was protecting the Sterling name from the shame of having a stupid charity case associated with it. Still, it was help. And I would take it.