Chapter 1 Prologue

The hallway reeked of disinfectant and teenage sweat. Lockers slammed like gunfire, laughter bounced from wall to wall, and Veronica was at the center of it all.

Seventeen, head held high, she owned the corridor the way a queen owned her throne. Her hair gleamed under the lights, nails clicking against her phone as her friends trailed behind, waiting for her next cue.

And then she saw her.

Emily Walsh; awkward, stammering, always clutching books like a shield. Her sweater was two sizes too big, her sneakers scuffed to gray. And her freckles, the most outstanding feature on her face.

"Hey, Freckles!" Veronica's voice sliced through the noise. Students turned, expecting a show.

Emily froze, eyes wide behind thick glasses. "I-I have class."

Veronica blocked her path with a sharp smile. "Oh, but, I didn't ask."

Her friends giggled as she snatched one of Emily's books, flipping it open dramatically. "The Poetry of Suffering? No wonder you eat alone."

Emily reached for it. "Give it back, Veronica."

Veronica pulled it higher, enjoying the flush on Emily's face. "Say please."

The crowd snickered. Emily's hands trembled. She whispered, "Please."

"Louder," Veronica demanded.

Emily swallowed hard. "Please."

Satisfied, Veronica tossed the book to the floor, pages bending as it slid across the tiles. "There you go freckles. Was that so hard?"

Emily scrambled to pick it up. The laughter followed her like smoke.

Veronica turned, basking in the approval of her entourage. But as the crowd dispersed, a flicker of unease twisted in her chest. She shoved it down quickly. Queens didn't doubt themselves.

And yet, years later, that moment-Emily's shaking voice, the sound of paper tearing as her book hit the floor-would echo louder than the cheers.