The car glided past the tall iron gates of Valcrest University—Country S's most prestigious institution, a place where dreams were embroidered into ivy-covered walls and ambitions walked in polished shoes.
But to Elizabeth Ashford, it was just another building with beautiful lies.
Valcrest was crafted perfection.Emerald lawns unrolled like velvet, dotted with cherry blossom trees that bloomed as if on cue. Ancient stone buildings whispered of legacy, while sleek glass towers winked at the sun with promises it never kept.
Laughter threaded through the breeze like silk.Students wandered—some rushed, some strolled.Couples tangled fingers. Friends bumped shoulders.Warmth was everywhere.
Elizabeth sat in the back seat, her chin propped delicately on her fingers. Silver-grey eyes stared through the window—not at the campus, but at the people.
So much warmth.So much life.And yet…
None of it belongs to me.
The car slowed.
The driver stepped out, opened the door with practiced grace.
She stepped into the morning like a secret whispered too softly to hear. The breeze greeted her, tousling her raven-black hair like it wanted to flirt but didn't dare. Sunlight kissed her porcelain skin, gentle and reverent.
But she didn't lift her face to meet it. She never did.
Her heels clicked softly on the pathway as she moved toward the Business Management building. Every step was elegant, measured—like she was dancing to music no one else could hear. A melody made of silence.
And still… they watched her.
Voices dipped. Eyes turned. Conversations faltered.
She was that kind of beautiful—the kind that didn't ask for attention but demanded reverence. The kind that made people hesitate before speaking, unsure if they were worthy of being heard beside her.
But Elizabeth felt none of it.
She only felt the space—that subtle, aching distance between her and the world. The line no one ever crossed.
The heavy classroom doors creaked open.
She moved to the back corner without a glance at anyone. Her usual seat by the window—the one that didn't expect words or warmth. The one that let her be invisible in plain sight.
Her bag touched the desk softly. Her hands folded in her lap. Her eyes turned once again to the world outside the glass.
Same buildings.Same sunlight.Same hollowness.
And yet… today, something felt different.Faint.Like the breath the sky takes before thunder cracks it open.
Then—
"Uggghhh… why did classes have to start again?! My soul still wants to be sunbathing on a yacht!!"
The silence broke like glass under a stiletto.
Elizabeth blinked, turning her head slowly.
There she was.
Sarah Smith. All oversized sunglasses, wild chestnut curls, and the kind of chaotic energy that made rooms feel too small. She flopped into the seat beside Elizabeth with the drama of a Shakespearean heroine freshly betrayed by vacation's end.
"I was born for luxury, not lecture halls," Sarah whined, tossing her arms across the desk like a tragic poet. "Liz, I'm filing a lawsuit against reality."
Elizabeth stared. Blinked once.
"…Good morning, Sarah."
Sarah peeked over her sunglasses and grinned like a gremlin with a secret. "Look at you. All chilly and mysterious again. Admit it—you missed me."
Elizabeth's lips twitched. Almost.
"...How was your vacation?" Sarah asked, pulling off her glasses to reveal eyes that sparkled like they were always mid-laugh.
Elizabeth hesitated. "It was... okay."
Sarah narrowed her gaze. "Define 'okay'."
"I worked."
Sarah gasped like she'd been shot in the heart. "The entire summer? Oh my god. You're a corporate ghost. You haunt spreadsheets, don't you?"
Elizabeth tilted her head. "Spreadsheets don't ask unnecessary questions."
Sarah burst out laughing, loud and shameless, drawing glances from nearby students. "Oh my god, I missed you so much it physically hurts."
"I wasn't gone."
"You were emotionally gone," Sarah insisted, flipping her curls. "Next break, I'm dragging you to Ibiza. Or Bali. You need scandal. Maybe a mysterious stranger. Preferably shirtless."
Elizabeth turned her eyes back to the window. Her voice dropped to a murmur.
"…I wouldn't know what to do with one."
Sarah paused. The humor in her expression softened. But before she could say anything, the door opened.
A tall man entered. Graying hair, tired eyes, the slow walk of someone who's taught a hundred semesters and seen a thousand excuses.
"Good morning, class," he said, his voice low but gentle. "I'm Professor Boyer. I'll be teaching Strategic Business Development this term."
The room fell quiet. Notebooks opened. Pens clicked.
Elizabeth sat straighter. Her expression calm.But her thoughts… wandered.
Outside, sunlight filtered through the cherry blossoms. The petals shifted in the breeze, casting soft shadows across the stone pathways.
And in her chest—quiet, cautious—something stirred.
Something's coming.She couldn't name it.She couldn't describe it.But she could feel it.
A change.A shift.A tremble in the stillness.
And Elizabeth Ashford had learned long ago—
Even the gentlest tremor…could shatter everything.