Sienna

Ava barely said two words through the rest of lunch, but her silence was louder than any outburst. Every time Jaxon leaned across the table to push my tray closer or muttered a low “eat something,” I felt her eyes burning holes into me.

By the time the bell rang, Ava’s smile had cracked completely. I caught her and her little clique huddled near the lockers, whispers flying fast.

“She’s his sister,” one of her friends reminded her, a little too loudly.

“Step-sister,” ...