*Roanne’s POV*

I felt the chill of the early morning air nip at my skin as I made my way across the dew-kissed campus, textbooks clutched against my chest. The ancient oaks stood as silent sentinels, watching the throng of students buzzing with the electric pulse of a new day. My thoughts were a tangled web of formulas and essay prompts when Lizzie's voice cut through the ambient chatter like a violin string pulled taut.

"Roanne! Wait up!" she called out, ...