CHAPTER 4 — Secrets & Whisper
1430 Words
The hallway outside the Arden Heights library still hummed faintly in Rena’s ears long after she’d stepped out of it. Even now, as she walked back toward the girls’ dorms, the echo of Isabelle’s voice clung to her like the lingering scent of jasmine she couldn’t wash off.
“You’re just like her. Pretending you’re above all this.”
Rena shut her eyes for a moment, letting the crisp evening air brush her face. She didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to replay that tense, too-quiet standoff. Didn’t want to imagine Isabelle’s smirk, or the way her words slipped under Rena’s ribs and pressed on all the wrong places.
She wasn’t here to fight.
She didn’t want drama.
She didn’t want to inherit battles her parents never resolved.
But it was too late — Isabelle’s words were now moving through her bloodstream, irritating her thoughts like a splinter she couldn’t pull out.
The Arden Heights dorms rose ahead, lit by soft amber lights that made the old stone look warm and regal. Rena pushed the glass door open and stepped inside. The scent of lavender cleaning spray and expensive perfume swirled around her — the signature fragrance of the girls’ wing.
She walked up the staircase slowly, her mind still stuck in the library.
The way Isabelle had looked at her… like she was looking at a reflection she didn’t like.
Rena reached her floor and entered her room — minimalistic, sleek, all black and silver with a neat bed that matched her personality a little too well. She closed the door behind her and dropped her bag on the chair.
Her phone buzzed.
Perfect timing, she thought sarcastically — but when she saw the caller ID, her expression softened.
Ethan , her brother
She took a deep breath and answered.
“Hey.”
His laughter crackled through the speaker. “You sound tired. That school sucking your brain out already?”
“It’s fine,” she said, sitting on her bed. “Just a normal day.”
“Coming from you, that means a disaster happened.”
“It wasn’t a disaster,” Rena muttered, leaning back against the wall. “Just… school.”
There was a pause, the kind only older brothers could make heavy on purpose.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “Then let me ask you something random. I heard Isabelle Montclair’s attending Arden Heights now. That true?”
Rena’s heart lurched.
She closed her eyes.
“Yeah,” she whispered.
Theo exhaled. “Rena… don’t let her get into your head. You know how the Montclairs are. Or… how our parents were with them.”
“Yeah,” she repeated, voice tight.
“But I’m not trying to get into anything. She just—”
She cut herself off.
Theo didn’t push. He never pushed.
“That’s good then. Stay focused. Don’t let old ghosts trouble you.”
She swallowed. “I won’t.”
“Alright, superstar. I’ll let you go rest. Call me tomorrow, okay?”
“Yeah. Goodnight.”
When the call ended, Rena stared at the ceiling.
Everyone kept telling her not to let things get to her — like it was easy. Like she could flip a switch and detach herself from a legacy she didn’t even understand fully.
She wasn’t angry with Isabelle.
She was tired.
Tired of expectations.
Tired of secrets.
Tired of wearing the mask she’d perfected — emotionless, unshaken, unbothered.
Tonight, that mask had cracks.
Rena pulled her knees to her chest and let her mind replay the sting of Isabelle’s words one last time before she forced herself to breathe it out. Tomorrow would be a long day. She needed rest.
But rest wasn’t coming.
---
Morning came too quickly.
The girls’ dorm buzzed as students shuffled out for breakfast. High ponytails swayed, perfume clouds drifted through the corridors, and the constant tapping of heels echoed off the marble floors.
Rena walked silently among them, head down, earphones in though no music played.
As soon as she stepped into the dining hall, she felt it — that strange, prickling atmosphere, the kind that meant whispers were spreading like wildfire.
And then she felt eyes. Lots of them.
Fantastic.
Rumors. Again.
She grabbed a tray and kept walking.
Isabelle wasn’t even in the room yet — or maybe she was and Rena simply refused to look. Amanda waved from across the room with her adorable, oblivious glitter-aura, like a golden retriever that had learned to walk in heels.
Rena forced a smile and sat beside her.
“You look tired,” Amanda said, tilting her head like a concerned angel. “Did you stay up late? Don’t tell me you’re pulling Rena-style all-nighters already.”
“I’m fine,” Rena said — her favorite lie.
Amanda didn’t question it.
She just started chatting about the eco-fashion club and some senior who complimented her hair. Half the table was listening to Amanda without her knowing she had that kind of gravity. She was sunshine in a skirt.
But even Amanda couldn’t block out the scattered whispers around the room.
Rena heard fragments:
“—library—”
“—Montclair—”
“—did you hear—”
“—their families—”
Her hand tightened on her fork.
Not today. Not again.
---
After breakfast, the whispers didn’t stop.
By lunch, they’d grown.
By last period, Isabelle had brushed past Rena in the hallway without a word — but her smirk said enough:
You heard what they’re saying.
Rena walked faster, pulse tight in her chest. She didn’t want to think about Tom. Didn’t want him to see her like this. Didn’t want him involved in this mess that wasn’t even hers.
But she hadn’t fooled him the day before — she could feel it in the way he watched her.
She didn’t want to unravel in front of anyone.
Especially not him.
---
Across campus, in the boys’ wing…
Tom dropped his bag on the floor with a sigh. His room wasn’t messy — just filled. Sketchbooks stacked on his desk, textbooks sprawled open, highlighters everywhere like little neon casualties of academic war.
He rubbed his eyes and sat at his desk.
Medical terminology.
Bone structure charts.
Then—
He looked at the sketch he’d been working on the night before.
Blank corner. Empty space waiting for something.
He thought he could keep school and art separate.
He thought he could stay focused.
He thought he could ignore the way Rena’s expression in the library hallway lingered in the back of his mind like a ghost imprint.
He flipped to a fresh page.
He didn’t want to think about her.
He didn’t want to get involved in whatever history she and Isabelle shared.
He didn’t want distractions.
But the pencil moved on its own.
A shape.
A posture.
A silhouette.
Soft shoulders, tense jaw, something guarded…
He paused.
He knew exactly who he was thinking of,
Tom exhaled and leaned back in his chair, letting the dim dorm lamp highlight the precise lines of the mahogany desk, the quiet luxury of Arden Heights’ architecture — the way even the dorms felt like they were designed to pressure students into greatness.
He stared at his open medical textbook, pretending to absorb words.
He didn’t.
His parents wanted excellence.
They expected precision.
Emotion had no place in his schedule.
Except today, emotion was everywhere.
And it had Rena’s face.
---
That evening…
Rena left study hall early.
Her nerves were shot.
Her head was overstimulated.
Her mask was slipping.
She just wanted to get to her room.
Sleep.
Forget everything.
She passed the courtyard quietly — until she heard voices.
She didn’t mean to eavesdrop.
She didn’t even know who was talking at first.
But then—
“—if people knew what her mother did—”
“That whole scandal would be back.”
“I’m telling you, if she thinks she can outshine Isabelle—”
“She won’t last here. Not with that background.”
Rena froze behind the wall.
Her stomach dropped.
They were talking about her.
About her mother.
About secrets she never wanted anyone in this school to know.
Her breath hitched.
One of the voices laughed softly.
“Just wait. This school eats girls like her alive.”
Rena pressed her hand to her mouth, heart hammering.
All the whispers today.
All the looks.
All the tension.
This was it.
This was the rumor.
This was the thing that could ruin her.
Her vision blurred.
- Writer
