Ariana had never noticed how loud her world used to be.
The constant buzz of messages.
The laughter that followed her down the hallway.
The way people always waited for her reaction before forming their own.
Now, the silence was everywhere.
At school, her friends sat a little farther away. Conversations stopped when teachers passed—but they didn't resume with the same ease. During lunch, no one filmed videos. No one joked loudly.
They just ate.
Ariana hated it.
She watched Mira from across the cafeteria.
Mira sat alone, as usual, reading while she ate. Calm. Unbothered. As if nothing had happened.
That made Ariana's chest tighten.
Why doesn't she look broken?
Why doesn't she look like she lost?
---
In class, the teacher returned graded assignments.
"Mira Hale," she said, nodding slightly. "Excellent work."
Mira accepted the paper with a quiet "Thank you."
Ariana stared at her own grade.
Good.
But not the best.
Never the best anymore.
Her fingers crumpled the corner of the page before she forced herself to smooth it out.
---
That afternoon, Ariana stayed behind after class.
"Miss," she said stiffly, "was the investigation… finished?"
The teacher studied her for a long moment.
"Yes," she said. "And I hope you've learned something."
Ariana swallowed. "Am I in trouble?"
"You're disappointed in yourself," the teacher replied calmly. "That's worse than detention."
Ariana said nothing.
---
At home, the mansion felt different.
Too quiet.
Dominic was rarely around. Liam stayed mostly in his room or left early for university. Their parents were busy.
No one asked Ariana how her day was.
She stood in front of her mirror that night, staring at her reflection.
Perfect hair.
Perfect clothes.
Perfect image.
Yet something was missing.
She remembered the look on Mira's face the day her essay was shared.
Not anger.
Not fear.
Disappointment.
Ariana's stomach twisted.
---
Later that night, Ariana wandered into the library.
The light was on.
Mira sat at the table, studying.
Ariana stopped at the doorway.
She opened her mouth—then closed it.
What was she supposed to say?
Sorry felt too small.
I was jealous felt humiliating.
Mira looked up and noticed her.
Their eyes met.
Ariana stiffened, waiting—for accusation, for triumph.
But Mira only nodded slightly and returned to her book.
No hatred.
No victory.
Just distance.
Ariana turned away abruptly, her chest burning.
For the first time, she realized something terrifying.
Mira didn't want revenge.
She didn't want approval.
She didn't even want forgiveness.
She just… didn't need Ariana at all.
And that hurt more than anything else ever had.