Good afternoon, Dad," Georgina said, stepping into the living room where her father lounged on the couch, eyes fixed on a video playing on his tablet.

"Good afternoon, dear," he replied, glancing up with a warm smile. "How was school? Anything interesting happen?"

"Nothing, Dad," Georgina said, brushing past him toward the stairs, her backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Principal Dave called," her father said, his tone shifting to one of concern.

Georgina froze mid-step, her heart skipping a beat at the mention of the principal’s name. She turned slowly, forcing a casual expression. "Dad, it was nothing."

"Nothing, George?" He set the tablet down, his brow furrowing. "He sent me a video. You almost got into a fight."

"But I didn’t," she shot back, her voice sharper than intended.

Her father sighed, leaning forward. "This isn’t what you promised, Georgina. This is your fresh start. You’re only at this school for one year—just one school session. Make the most of it. You don’t want to be expelled again. What would your mom say?"

"Dad, please, not again," Georgina interrupted, her voice cracking as she turned and bolted upstairs. She slammed her bedroom door shut and leaned against it, her breath uneven.

"George, what’s gotten into you?" she muttered to herself, sliding down to the floor. Why couldn’t she just walk away? Why did she feel that burning urge to step in when she saw Ethan’s hands gripping Harriet’s arm? She couldn’t risk her secret getting out at this new school. Things had been fine for the past month, until Ethan showed up, stirring trouble.

"I should just mind my own business," she said, tossing her backpack onto the bed and heading to the bathroom for a cool shower to wash away the day’s chaos.

**************

Harriet sat on her bed, scrolling aimlessly on her phone when she heard a knock on he door.

"You can come in," Harriet called, her tone flat.

The door swung open, and Margret, her stepmother, sauntered in. Her bright blonde hair gleamed under the light, her fair face framed by a smug smile. "Oh, my baby, how I’ve missed you," she cooed, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she approached.

"Cut the crap, Margret. Dad’s not here," Harriet snapped, sitting up straighter.

Margret chuckled, unfazed. "Ooh, seems my evil stepdaughter isn’t happy to see me."

"Why should I be?" Harriet raised an eyebrow, her voice icy. "Why should I be happy to see my wicked stepmother?"

Margret’s smile widened, venomous. "Your loss, baby girl. I’m married to your dad, and I’m not going anywhere."

"I thought your trip was for two months," Harriet said, her face twisting in disgust.

Margret adjusted her hair with a theatrical flourish. "What kind of mother would I be if I missed my stepson’s engagement party?"

"You’re not my mother," Harriet spat, her eyes blazing.

"Get used to it, little witch," Margret said, smirking. "We’re going shopping tomorrow for your brother’s engagement party this weekend. Be ready."

"I’m not going with you," Harriet said, flopping back onto her bed.

"Oh, darling, you don’t have a choice," Margret purred, her smile wicked as she sashayed out of the room.

"Good riddance to bad nonsense," Harriet muttered as the door clicked shut.

NEXT DAY

"That woman is seriously getting on my nerves," Harriet groaned.

"I wish there was something you could do, but she’s married to your dad," Georgina said, her voice gentle. "Is there a reason you hate her so much?"

Harriet’s eyes clouded with painful memories, but she shook her head. "You wouldn’t understand. Just forget it."

Georgina nodded, sensing the topic was closed. "By the way, where’s Alex?"

"Principal Dave’s office," Harriet replied. "He was called in before first period. It’s already lunch—why isn’t he back?"

"I tried calling him a few minutes ago, but he didn’t pick up," Georgina said, frowning.

As they passed through the hallway, students were glued to their phones, their faces pale with shock. Georgina’s curiosity piqued. "What’s everyone looking at?"

She pulled out her phone and opened the school’s group chat. Her breath caught as she read the headline: Minister of Petroleum Dies in Tragic Motor Accident.

"Oh, holy shit," Harriet gasped, snatching the phone from Georgina’s hand. Her eyes widened as she read the news, her hands trembling. "That’s Alex’s dad."

Tears spilled down her cheeks, her body shaking with grief. She and Alex had been best friends for years, practically growing up together. Mr. Smith, Alex’s father, had been a quiet, dependable man—a stark contrast to Harriet’s often-absent father. He’d welcomed her into their home, helped her and her brother Lucas when their dad was away on endless trips. He’d been a father figure, filling the void her own father left behind.

"Uncle can’t be dead," Harriet whispered, her voice breaking as tears flowed freely.

Georgina pulled her into a tight hug, her own eyes stinging. "Hey, it’s going to be okay. But we need to find Alex and check on him."

She gently wiped the tears from Harriet’s cheeks, and they gathered their things, hurrying to the school gate where Mike, their driver, waited in the car. They climbed in and the car drive off.