Elena POV
The first class of the day was English, and as the teacher droned on about Shakespeare, my mind drifted back to the attic. The memories of Grandma and my mom were a source of comfort, a reminder of the love and support I had once known. I could almost hear Grandma’s voice, reciting poetry or telling me stories about the old days.
“Elena, pay attention,” Elise chided gently. “You can’t let them see you faltering.”
“I know,” I whispered back, focusing on the teacher’s words. But it was hard. The pain and fear of the present weighed heavily on me.
The morning had been an endurance test. By noon, I was drained. The isolation and humiliation were almost unbearable. Desperately needing a break, I headed toward the library, seeking refuge in its quiet, peaceful corners. I hoped to h
