Freya’s POV

The cafeteria was packed.

Voices buzzed from every direction, trays clattered, and chairs scraped against the tiled floor in a rhythm that had long since stopped bothering me. I stood at the edge of the crowd, scanning for an empty seat, when something caught my eye.

Or rather—someone.

Stella.

She swept through the doors like a queen entering court. A group of girls surrounded her, moving in sync like backup dancers afraid to miss a ...