The whispers hadn't left her head all day. Madison's words clung to every glance in the hall, every half-finished sentence cut off when she walked by. Maybe the new boy isn't who he says he is.
Maya told herself it was only gossip, but the unease sat heavy in her chest as she climbed the stairs to her dorm. Her legs ached from practice. Her mind ached from everything else.
She just wanted to sleep. To not think for a few hours.
The hallway was quiet. Most guys were still at dinner or hanging out in the common room. Maya unlocked her door, pushed it open.
The smell hit first. Metallic, sharp. Wrong.
Her hand froze on the doorknob. That's blood.
Her eyes dropped to the bed.
A jersey lay spread across the blanket, streaked and soaked in dark red. Not hers. Not clean. The fabric was stiff in places where the blood had started to dry.
Maya's knees buckled. She grabbed the desk to keep from collapsing, her bag sliding off her shoulder and hitting the floor with a thud.
