Chapter 4
1999 Words
The morning air clung heavy as Ina walked through the tall iron gates of San Rafael Academy. Her bag felt heavier than it was, filled with second-hand books and carefully wrapped sandwiches her mother had packed. Her heart pounded, but she reminded herself: I belong here. I earned this.
The bursar’s office was her first stop for registration. She waited patiently in line while students in crisp uniforms and expensive shoes were called forward one by one. When it was finally her turn, the woman at the desk barely looked up.
“Name?” she asked curtly.
“Ina Morales,” she said softly, offering her form.
The woman glanced at the paper, sighed, and tossed it onto the desk without care. “Scholarship. Sit there. We’ll get to you later.”
Ina stood there awkwardly, ignored, as other students behind her were attended to immediately. She clutched her bag tighter, her throat dry. She wanted to protest, but years of being dismissed told her it would be useless.
Just when she thought she would sit there the whole morning, a soft female voice broke the silence.
“Ina Morales? Please, follow me. I’ll show you to your class.”
Ina blinked up at her homeroom teacher — Señorita Alvarez, a gentle-looking woman with kind eyes. Relief swept through her as she nodded and followed quickly.
The corridors of San Rafael were lined with golden lockers and polished floors that reflected the light. Students leaned against walls, laughing, scrolling through the latest phones, their eyes flicking briefly to Ina. Some sneered. Some giggled.
Señorita Alvarez stopped before a large door. She smiled at Ina reassuringly. “Remember, you earned this. Don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise.”
Ina swallowed and nodded.
When they entered, the classroom buzzed with chatter. Designer bags slung across desks, perfume clouded the air, and laughter echoed. The moment the teacher spoke, however, silence fell.
“Class, this is our newest student, a recipient of the San Rafael scholarship.”
A murmur rippled across the room.
“Another welfie?”
“Here we go again.”
“They never last more than a semester.”
Laughter broke out. Some clapped mockingly, others whispered behind their hands.
Ina felt every gaze on her, sharp and cutting. But she stood straighter, her hazel eyes steady. Her voice was calm when she introduced herself.
“My name is Ina Morales.”
The class erupted in snickers and whispers again. But Ina didn’t flinch. She refused to let their mockery pierce her heart.
“Quiet,” Señorita Alvarez commanded. “Ina, please take a seat.”
As Ina walked toward the empty desk, she felt eyes burning into her. And then she looked up... and her gaze locked with David Herrera’s.
He sat at the back, his posture lazy yet commanding, his eyes dark and assessing. Girls in the class cast him adoring looks, boys tried to mirror his every move. He was the king of this empire.
Ina’s hazel eyes met his for only a second before she looked away, unbothered.
And that single act... that refusal to be swayed, to giggle, to blush, to fall at his feet like every other girl... startled him.
David’s smirk faltered.
No girl had ever dared to look at him and simply… dismiss him.
For the first time, he felt a flicker of something unfamiliar. Curiosity.
Ina, unaware of the storm she had just stirred, slid into her seat quietly. She had survived the introduction. But little did she know, surviving David Herrera’s attention would be far harder.
Ina hadn’t realized until registration day that the scholarship came with a condition...she was required to live in the San Rafael dormitories.
When she first saw the gleaming white building with its glass windows and golden crests, her heart leapt. Maybe this won’t be so bad, she thought. But the moment she stepped inside, reality sank its claws into her.
Her room smelled of roses and perfume... the scent of money. Her roommates stared at her like she was an insect crawling across their marble floor. They spoke in clipped Spanish, ignoring her existence or laughing under their breath.
“Another charity case,” one muttered.
“She won’t last a month,” another sneered.
Her first nights were filled with whispers, slammed doors, and laughter whenever she tried to sleep. Clothes were stolen, books went missing, and once, she returned to find her mattress drenched in cold water.
But Ina never flinched. Every time they tried to break her, she rebuilt herself. Every cruel word, every cruel prank...she faced with quiet fire. She refused to let them see her cry.
It all came to a head in the cafeteria.
The room buzzed with the laughter of rich students, trays of steaming food prepared like a feast for kings. Ina stood quietly in line, her tray empty, when suddenly, a group of girls blocked her path.
At their center was Sofia Ramirez, David’s closest female ally... beautiful, venomous, and dripping with arrogance.
“Well, well,” Sofia said, her voice honey-coated with poison. “If it isn’t the newest welfie. Tell me, Morales, does the food here taste better than the scraps your family eats back home?”
The girls around her laughed. One of them grabbed a carton of milk from her tray and tilted it, pouring it slowly over Ina’s uniform. White liquid dripped down her blouse, soaking the fabric.
The cafeteria erupted in laughter.
But they weren’t finished. Another girl sprinkled curry powder from her plate onto the puddle of milk at Ina’s feet. She smirked, her eyes glinting.
“Eat up, welfie. You’re surviving on our parents’ money anyway. Might as well lick the floor, you shameless bitch.”
The words cut sharper than the milk’s cold sting. Gasps filled the air as students crowded closer, eager for blood.
Ina stood still for a moment, her fists clenched, her hazel eyes blazing. Everyone expected her to cry, to run, to crumble like all the others before her.
But instead, she stepped forward. She looked Sofia straight in the eye and said, voice steady, “If surviving on your parents’ money makes me shameless, then what does it make you... when the only thing you’ve ever achieved is being born?”
The cafeteria fell silent.
Sofia’s smirk faltered. Whispers rippled through the crowd.
Ina didn’t wait for permission. She pushed past them, lifted her tray, and walked to an empty corner. Her back straight, her chin high, milk still dripping from her clothes... but her spirit unbroken.
From the golden balcony above the cafeteria, David Herrera watched.
He leaned lazily against the railing, his circle around him, amusement dancing in his cold eyes. He had expected Ina to crumble like the rest...to bow, to beg, to break.
But she hadn’t.
She had stood tall. She had fought back.
And for the first time, David felt something unfamiliar stir inside him. Not pity. Not respect. Something darker. Something dangerous.
A slow smirk curved his lips.
“This one,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else, “is different.”
Ina ran to the balcony and cried her eyes out, but she refused to let it break her. That day marked the beginning of a pain she never imagined she would endure. The bullies didn’t spare her. They tore her notebooks, ripped out the pages where she had poured hours of study, and destroyed her musical instruments one after another. Music had been her only escape, but they knew that...and they used it against her. Every note she tried to play was drowned out by cruel laughter.
Eating became another battle. During lunch breaks, whenever she carried her small food flask to the cafeteria, someone would “accidentally” bump into her, spilling it on the floor. Sometimes, they added sand or poured juice over her rice. She learned to hide in the toilet, balancing her plate on her lap and swallowing quickly before someone found her. More often than not, she ate in silence with tears running down her cheeks.
The bruises on her arms and face became too many to hide, yet no teacher asked what was wrong. Her homeroom teacher noticed, of course...her gaze would linger on Ina sometimes, soft and apologetic...but rules tied her hands. The school had its hierarchy. The Alpha group was untouchable, and no teacher dared to cross them. Ina understood it, but it still hurt that no one cared enough to fight for her.
The semester rounded up, and against all odds, Ina emerged the highest in her class. Her grades were flawless, her assignments spotless, her presentations brilliant. David was shocked but remained indifferent. He didn’t clap when the results were announced, didn’t even look at her. The bullies, however, only grew more bitter.
“Bookworm,” one sneered at her in the hallway. “Do you think your grades make you better than us? You’ll still be nothing but trash.”
They cornered her after class one evening, dragging her behind the music block where no one could see. Her books were flung into the mud, her bag emptied out, her pencils broken one by one. When she tried to protest, a slap silenced her. The sting stayed long after they left.
Still, Ina pressed on. She reminded herself every morning that life was not a bed of roses. If she gave up now, she would have nothing left.
One afternoon during sports class, the bullies plotted something far worse. The climbing rope was switched out for a weaker one. They whispered among themselves, smirking, certain that Ina would fail miserably. But Ina was light. She managed to climb to the very top, determination etched on her face.
Then the rope snapped.
She felt the world tilt before her body crashed against the ground. A sharp crack echoed, pain shooting through her legs like fire. Screams filled the field, but no one rushed to help her—not even the bullies who had caused it. They stood frozen, some pretending to be shocked, others laughing behind their palms.
The school brushed it off as an accident. No investigation was made. Ina lay in the infirmary, her heart heavier than her bandaged legs. When her mother came to visit, Ina forced a smile through her pain.
“Mama, I was careless during sports,” she lied, swallowing the lump in her throat.
Her mother cupped her cheeks with trembling hands, tears in her eyes. “My daughter, you have to be careful. You can’t afford to get hurt again.”
The words stabbed deeper than any bully’s insult. She wanted to scream the truth, to tell her mother about the cruelty she endured, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want her to carry that burden.
The school paid for her treatment, but Ina spent the entire semester in a wheelchair. The hallways became even lonelier. Students whispered as she rolled by, mocking her disability.
“Look at the cripple.”
“She should just drop out.”
“Who wants to sit with her?”
- Writer
