(Michelle Lui's POV)
The campus felt colder today.
Winter wasn't real winter in our city — no snow, no frost on the windows — but the wind cut sharp across the courtyard, threading through scarves and coats and the nerves beneath my skin.
Rumors always traveled fast at University A.
But the kind that involved Exclusive 8?
They didn't travel.
They detonated.
And today, walking beside Steven toward Physics lecture, I could still feel traces of yesterday's explosion in how people glanced at me.
Quick.
Speculative.
Judgment tucked behind polite masks.
But it didn't crush me this time.
The weight was still there, yes — a familiar pressure against my ribs — but it no longer pinned me down. It felt distant now, like background noise in a song I'd already learned to tune out. The looks still stung, but they didn't own me, not the way they once did.
Not after yesterday.
Not after Steven.
A small warmth pressed against the cold.
