Sophia’s P.O.V

 Gabriella’s face twisted in sheer indignation, her manicured fingers gripping the paintbrush as she turned toward the man. I stood there in the classroom, trying to ignore the tension in the air as Gabriella’s voice cut through the hum of quiet conversations.

“Who does this guy think he is, barging in here and disrupting our class?” she snapped, glaring at him. The audacity in her tone made me almost smile, though I kept it hidden. She wasn’t the ...