**POV Manuela**

When the car passed through the gates of Flávia’s house, I had already given up arguing. I knew she had the best intentions, but I still didn’t feel like I belonged there.

The imposing facade, the perfectly manicured garden—everything screamed wealth lived here. Maybe I’d take time to figure out whether it was an inferiority complex or if I had simply been born to be part of all this.

Before we got out of the car, Flávia took my hand and looked straight into my ...