The dream always starts the same: the magnificent, feathered wings, the deep, gravelly voice whispering 'Sodales semper, my love, always.' And then, just as my lips are about to meet his, my Ariana Grande ringtone shatters the illusion. It’s Travis, my perpetually impatient boyfriend, honking outside.

“What the hell, babe? Where are you? I've been sitting out here for ten minutes?” he grumbles through the phone. I roll my eyes, running a hand through my tangled hair. Another day, another demand. Our year-long relationship feels less like love and more like an obligation now.

After a quick shower and a swipe of cherry lip gloss, I head downstairs. My parents’ cars are gone, and the kitchen is empty. No breakfast, no goodbyes. Just the usual silence that feels heavier than any argument. Lately, home has been less a sanctuary and more a battleground, a prelude to a divorce I dread.

My phone rings again. Ugh. It's Jezelle, my best friend, already waiting at school. “Don’t hey Jezelle me! Where the hell are you? I’ve been waiting…” She rants as I get into my Jeep. “Sorry, Jez, give me a few minutes. I’m on my way.”

The school lot is still quiet, an hour before classes start, but I’m already late for cheer practice. Jezelle paces by the entrance, her crystal blue eyes narrowed. "You're late, Nev. Are you ready?" she asks, but her smile breaks through. "Sorry about that. But I'm here now, so let's go."

We walk into the gym, our cheer skirts swishing. Leigh Andrews, my resident nemesis, immediately steps up. “Wow, Nevaeh, are you going to make it a ritual to be late? I mean, you’re the captain of the squad.” I just roll my eyes. “No pressure Leigh, just a bad alarm.” The same old routine. But today, something feels different. Something in the air has shifted. The calm before a storm.