(Lena's POV).
“Lena, over here!” Mia waved from her seat near the back as I stepped into class.
I offered a tired smile and moved to join her, grateful for at least one friendly face in the crowd.
The room was filled with the usual buzz—papers rustling, chairs screeching against the tile, low murmurs that carried just enough edge to them to keep me on guard.
But it was the way some of the girls looked at me that instantly raised my defenses.
I felt their eyes before I saw them—glances that flicked toward me, lingered a beat too long, then turned away with that too-familiar mix of fear and disgust.
“She’s got that whole death squad behind her now, doesn’t she?” someone muttered under their breath.
The words were low, but just loud enough to reach my ears.
Another girl giggled
