chapter 12 lines drawn
562 Words
Rain soaked the campus, relentless and cold, washing color from everything it touched. The stone paths blurred into dull gray, streetlamps glowing faintly through the downpour like tired eyes refusing to close.
Olivia pulled her hood tighter as she crossed the courtyard, her thoughts louder than the rain. Every step felt heavy, as though Westbridge itself was pressing down on her shoulders.
That was when she saw him.
Ryan stood near the clock tower, half-shielded by the overhang, rain sliding off his dark jacket. His posture was casual, but his eyes were sharp—alert. Like he’d been waiting.
She stopped short.
“You found something,” he said before she could speak.
Olivia’s breath caught. “How do you—”
“Your face,” Ryan replied calmly. “It always changes when you connect the dots.”
She hesitated, then nodded. “The rumors. They didn’t just start. They were… shaped. Twisted. Someone took pieces of truth and rearranged them.”
“Manipulated ones,” Ryan finished.
She looked at him sharply. “Yes.”
Ryan nodded once, his jaw tightening. “She’s setting a narrative. Once it sticks, it’s hard to shake. People don’t care about facts when a story feels convincing.”
Olivia’s fingers curled at her sides. “So what— I just let it ruin me?”
“No,” Ryan said. “But you don’t fight it head-on either. That’s what she wants.”
She stepped closer, rain soaking through her sleeves. “Then help me stop it.”
For a moment, Ryan didn’t answer. He studied her like he was weighing something dangerous.
“Be careful,” he said finally. “The closer you get, the messier it becomes. She doesn’t lose quietly.”
Olivia let out a bitter laugh. “Too late for careful.”
Something flickered in his expression—concern, maybe even regret.
“I warned you before,” he said softly. “I meant it.”
“I know.” Her voice steadied. “But I’m already in this. And I’m tired of pretending I’m not.”
The bell in the clock tower rang, low and distant, echoing across the empty courtyard. When Olivia looked back at Ryan, he was already stepping away.
“Focus on what matters,” he said over his shoulder. “Not what she wants you to lose.”
Then he disappeared into the rain.
Olivia ran back to her dorm, shoes splashing through puddles, heart racing—not from fear, but from clarity.
In her room, she dropped her bag and leaned against the door, breathing hard.
What had her university life turned into?
She had come to Westbridge to learn. To grow. To build a future. Not to navigate mind games, rumors, and silent wars she never asked for.
None of this drama was necessary.
Her gaze drifted to her desk—unfinished assignments, highlighted textbooks, exam schedules taped to the wall. Her grades mattered. Her future mattered.
And suddenly, the truth settled in her chest like armor.
If Vanessa wanted control, she would starve her of reaction.
If Ethan wanted silence, she would give it meaning.
And if Westbridge wanted to test her, she would pass—on her own terms.
Olivia wiped rain from her face, sat at her desk, and opened her laptop.
Let them talk.
She had work to do.
- Writer
