Lila sat at her desk with her headphones in, a faint rhythm pulsing softly as though she were in a world far from the restless classroom. The first day of exams always carried a suffocating weight. Students whispered nervously, flipped through last-minute notes, their pens tapping against desks with jittery impatience. Yet she lounged there with her chin resting on her palm, her gaze heavy-lidded, as though nothing in the room concerned her.
Her classmates had begun to notice the changes in her. No one could quite deny it anymore. Where she had once been easy to ignore—baggy clothes, slouched shoulders, an invisible shadow—there was now a sharper shape to her, a quiet strength in the way she held herself. Even her face seemed different, slimmer, clearer, the light catching her in a way that made her stand out.
"I swear, is it just me or is Lila getting prettier?" a girl whispered, glancing toward her.
Another giggled. "Yeah, and slimmer too. Almost like she's glowing."
Not everyone agreed. Some exchanged jealous glances, their whispers edged with spite.
"Glowing? Please. She's just losing weight. Doesn't make her smart," one muttered under her breath.
The room stilled a little when a boy near the window looked up from his book. Lucien Vale, the class president. Tall, composed, and unshakably brilliant. He carried himself with such calm authority that people always paused before addressing him. His dark eyes swept the room once before he said quietly, "The noise is too much. If you have the energy to gossip, use it to prepare."
Silence fell for a moment. Then one girl, braver than the rest, gave a teasing smile. "Not all of us can be like you, president. Handsome, brilliant… you're not even human at this point."
A few laughed. Lucien only shook his head faintly and returned to his book, unmoved. His silence was heavier than words.
From the back came a sharper jab. "We already know how the ranking will go. Lucien first… and Lila last. Polar opposites!"
Laughter rippled through the room. Lila didn't so much as blink. She adjusted her headphones and let the music drown out the noise. Her indifference irritated some of them more than her supposed incompetence.
When the exam papers arrived, the sound of flipping sheets filled the air. Lucien bent over his, already focused, while others panicked or scribbled. Lila skimmed hers, pen poised. Mathematics. Logic. Reading comprehension. Her hand moved with startling speed, answers filling the spaces neatly. Ten minutes later, half the paper was done. Without hesitation, she leaned back, folded her arms, and closed her eyes.
The teacher's brows furrowed when he spotted her sleeping. He muttered, "Hopeless," convinced she hadn't even started. None of the others noticed the filled pages; they only saw the girl who always dozed off.
"Unbelievable," someone whispered. "She doesn't even try."
Time ran out. One by one, students carried their papers forward. Lucien handed his in with the same calm air. Lila stirred awake, stretched lazily, and dropped hers at the teacher's desk last. His disapproving look slid off her like water as she strolled back out.
Whispers trailed her down the hall. "She's hopeless." "She'll be last again."
The courtyard was bathed in sharp sunlight. A sleek black car stood among the others, its polished body gleaming. As Lila passed, its door opened. A young man stepped out, familiar to her—he was the one who had pressed money into her hands after she saved his grandfather.
The old man followed, leaning on a cane, though his steps were steadier now. His eyes lit up when they fell on her.
"Miss!" the young man called, jogging over with a smile. "It's really you!"
The old man clasped both her hands tightly, his voice trembling. "My dear, thank you again. If not for you, I wouldn't be standing here. You saved my life."
Lila gave a small nod. "It was nothing."
"Nothing?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "Child, you gave me days I thought I'd lost forever. Let me repay you. Come to my home. Allow me to host you for lunch, at least. I won't take no for an answer."
"Please," the grandson added, eager. "Grandfather has been restless to thank you properly. It would mean a lot."
For a moment, she only watched them. The warmth in the old man's eyes was difficult to ignore, an unfamiliar gentleness that lingered with her.
"I'll… see if I can make time," she said quietly.
The old man smiled in relief and slipped a card into her hand. "My address. Come whenever you're free. You will always be welcome."
She tucked it into her pocket.
"Thank you again," the young man said, bowing slightly before guiding his grandfather back to the car.
The black vehicle rolled away, sunlight flashing on its windows until it vanished around the corner. Lila stood for a while, unreadable, before turning toward home.
When she stepped inside, David's voice reached her first. He was still in his waiter's uniform, pacing with an unsettled look. He stopped when he saw her.
"Lila," he said, his tone grave. "You won't believe what happened last night."
She tilted her head. "What?"
"One of the moguls staying at the hotel—he died. They said it was a heart attack, sudden, right there in his suite. Everyone's buzzing about it. But no one suspects foul play."
Lila paused, her mind flicking briefly to the poisoned glass, the shadows, the man's greedy grin. The corners of her mouth twitched before she smoothed them away.
"Strange," she said evenly. "But that's life."
David sighed, rubbing at his neck. "At least I'm glad you weren't anywhere near it. You're not such a bad sister after all."
Her eyes softened almost imperceptibly. She muttered as she walked past him, "Not a bad brother either."
And with that, she slipped into her room, leaving David in the quiet, unaware of just how close the truth lingered.