Amara’s POV
The morning had been a blur of whispers and stolen glances. The entire school seemed to be buzzing with the fact that I was back, stronger, different.
I caught snippets of conversations in the hallways:
“Did you see her? She’s not the same Amara.”
“She looks... powerful. Untouchable.”
“Do you think she’ll even talk to them again?”
It was strange, hearing people talk about me as though I were a legend or some untouchable force. If only they knew the truth—that beneath the hardened exterior, I was still the girl who had once been shattered into pieces.
I was trying to hold myself together when I saw him.
Ryder stood in the parking lot, leaning against a lamppost, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. His hair was messy, his expression unreadable, but his eyes...
