(Michelle Lui's POV)
By the time I got home, dropped my bag by my bedroom door, changed into the softest pajamas I owned, and curled up beneath my blanket…
The heaviness in my chest had finally loosened.
Not completely.
Not magically.
But the tight, suffocating knot — the one made of guilt, worry, and that awful, sinking feeling in my stomach — had lightened.
I buried my face into my pillow and exhaled.
Steven defended me.
Not subtly.
Not with vague hints.
Not quietly in private afterward.
He defended me in real time, with real conviction, in front of everyone.
Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Like breathing.
And suddenly the whispers in the hallways, the stares, the quiet gossip — all the storm clouds that had been hovering over my head for weeks — weren't so terrifying anymore.
I rolled onto my back, hugging my pillow to my chest.
My heart did that embarrassing flutter again.
The one I pretended didn't happen.
The one that absolutely did.
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