The Last Born

Chapter 2- Part 1

Chapter 2 – Part 1

The sun rose over the elite school, casting long shadows across the perfectly manicured lawns. Ava walked through the gates again, her heart pounding, but this time a new awareness tempered her nerves. She had survived her first day, and though every glance had felt like a judgment, she knew she had made it through without faltering.

As she entered the main courtyard, she noticed clusters of students laughing, some tossing designer bags onto their chairs, others chatting casually, seemingly unconcerned with the world outside their bubble. Ava’s eyes fell on a group of girls, their hair perfectly styled, their uniforms immaculate. One of them, a tall girl with piercing eyes and a smirk that could cut glass, seemed to notice her immediately.

“That’s her, right? The girl Uncle Harrison sponsored?” one whispered, loud enough for the group to giggle.

Ava’s stomach tightened. She kept walking, pretending she hadn’t heard, but every step was deliberate. She could feel the weight of their eyes tracking her movements, assessing her, marking her as different.

Her first class was literature, a subject she loved. She tried to focus on the poetry, the lessons on imagery and symbolism, but her mind kept returning to the whispers, the stares, and the constant reminder that she didn’t belong. When the teacher asked her to read a passage aloud, Ava’s voice trembled at first, but as the words formed in the air, she felt a small surge of confidence. The room fell silent, and for a moment, she noticed the curious looks of some classmates. Not all of them were cruel—some seemed intrigued.

During the break, Ava sat at a quiet corner, eating the sandwich her mother had prepared once again. She observed the school from afar: the laughter, the chatter, the way groups formed naturally as if by some invisible force she had yet to understand. She wanted to approach, to try and make friends, but the fear of ridicule held her back.

By lunchtime, the whispers had become more noticeable. A boy approached, tall, confident, with a notebook tucked under his arm. “You’re Harrison’s niece, right?” he asked casually, though his smirk betrayed a hint of condescension. Ava nodded politely.

“Well, good luck surviving here,” he said, walking away, leaving her with a mix of irritation and a determination she hadn’t realized she possessed. She clenched her fists under the table. She would survive. She had no choice but to prove herself—not just to the students, but to herself, her brothers, and her uncle.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of lessons, observations, and cautious interactions. Ava learned the rhythm of the school, the subtle hierarchies, the unspoken rules. By the time the final bell rang, she was exhausted, not just from learning, but from navigating the invisible minefield of judgment and expectation.

As she walked to the cab that would take her home, Ava whispered to herself, “Tomorrow, I will be stronger. Tomorrow, they will see me differently.” She didn’t know if it was a promise or a prayer, but it was something to hold onto in a world that seemed determined to remind her she didn’t belong.