Reborn As The Wretch

The familiar scent of old books and disinfectant was a strange comfort, a familiar sanctuary in the chaotic halls of Venezia Academy. I carefully locked the janitor's closet door behind me, the soft click a promise of temporary peace. Sunlight, fractured by the grimy window, painted dusty motes dancing in the air as I settled onto the cool, tiled floor.

My fingers traced the worn cover of 'Clash of Royals,' the novel a portal to another world, far less cruel than my own. A granola bar wrapper crinkled in my hand, the only sound accompanying the turning pages.

Then, the bell shrieked, tearing through the quiet. Chemistry test. Right.

I gathered my books in a hurried scramble, the brief escape already over. As I walked down the corridor, the usual murmur of student chatter felt like a rising tide of judgment. And then, I saw them. Emilia. Her friends. A knot tightened in my stomach, a cold premonition of the familiar torment to come.