The dining room was too quiet.
Plates clinked. Forks scraped. No one made eye contact.
Even Zoe — usually flirty and loud — barely touched her food.
And Ivy?
Ivy hadn't shown up at all.
Ren noticed first.
"She's not here," he said, scanning the empty seat.
Naomi frowned. "Maybe she's resting."
Brooke rolled her eyes. "Or she's sulking. Again."
Vanessa didn't speak. Just watched.
Ren stood up. "I'll check on her."
He found her upstairs. Not in her room. Not in the library.
She was on the balcony.
Sitting on the railing.
One leg hanging off.
Ren froze.
"Ivy."
She didn't look at him.
"I'm not going to jump."
Her voice was hollow. Calm.
Ren took a careful step closer. "Then come down?"
"I just wanted to breathe. It's the only place the cameras can't see my face."
He didn't respond.
She glanced at him — and smiled. It broke something in him.
"They moved my medication," she said.
"What?"
"I'm not stupid. I leave it in the drawer. It's gone. Replaced with something else."
Ren's fists clenched.
"Ivy—"
"I'm not crazy," she said suddenly, louder. "That's what they want people to think. Let the weird girl unravel. Make her look unstable. Make it easier to cut her."
She swung both legs back over and sat facing him.
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"I didn't come here to win. I came here because I thought… maybe I wasn't alone."
Ren swallowed hard.
"You're not."
She looked at him, really looked at him.
"Then stop pretending."
He opened his mouth. Closed it.
She stood, brushed off her sleeves, and walked past him.
Ren didn't move.
He just stared at the railing she'd been sitting on…
…and realized Ivy Brooks wasn't cracking.
She was breaking carefully, piece by piece, in full view of the world.