By the time Shelly reached her room, her mind was racing. Her phone buzzed with a new message, and instinctively, she opened it.“He’s refusing to leave you alone. He says only you can call it off. I warned him. I did my part.”Matt.Her stomach twisted. She had known her brother could be overprotective, but reading the message made her blood boil. How dare he take it upon himself to decide for her? She grabbed her phone, fingers trembling with frustration, and marched toward the common area, determined to confront him immediately.Matt was sitting at the couch, arms crossed, his dark eyes glinting when he saw her approach. He didn’t look apologetic; if anything, he looked ready for an argument.“Matt,” Shelly said sharply, standing with hands on her hips. “We need to talk.”Matt leaned back, casual but inflexible. “Oh, we do, huh? I thought I made myself clear already. You’re too close to him. And if you care about yourself at all, you’ll back off.”Shelly’s eyes narrowed. “Back off?

Shelly set her fork down gently, the soft clink against the plate cutting through the low hum of the restaurant.“Jared,” she said quietly.He looked up at once. “Yeah?”She held his gaze, steady and unflinching. “Can we stop pretending?”That landed harder than anger ever could.Jared stilled, his hand pausing mid-motion as he reached for his glass. “Pretending about…?”Shelly exhaled slowly, her shoulders rising and falling as if she’d been carrying something heavy all evening. “About everything being fine. About small talk. About this being just dinner.” She gestured lightly between them. “There’s something you’ve been trying to say since we sat down. I can feel it.”He swallowed.“I’m tired of dancing around it,” she continued, her voice calm but honest. “So please—just say it.”For a moment, Jared said nothing.The restaurant seemed to fade—the clink of cutlery, the murmur of nearby conversations, the music in the background—all of it dulled as he leaned back slightly, running a

Director Hill chose the timing carefully.Not during office hours. Not when the campus buzzed with eyes and speculation. He waited until evening, when the university settled into its quieter rhythm—when ambition spoke more freely and guards were lower.Jonah was exactly where Hill expected him to be.The private lounge reserved for donors and special guests overlooked the western side of campus, all glass walls and understated luxury. Jonah sat comfortably on one of the leather sofas, one arm draped over the backrest, a drink untouched on the table beside him. He looked relaxed. Confident. Like someone already accustomed to being accommodated.Hill paused briefly at the entrance, observing.Jonah laughed at something on his phone, then glanced up—and smiled when he saw Hill.“Director,” Jonah said smoothly. “I was wondering when you’d come find me.”Hill returned the smile, measured and professional. “I prefer to speak when there’s space to think. May I?”Jonah gestured to the seat ac

By morning, the decision had already slipped out of the administrative building and into the bloodstream of Los Angeles University.It didn’t arrive all at once.It arrived in pieces.A whisper in the hallway between morning lectures.A hurried text sent mid-class.A post that disappeared ten minutes after it went up.A laugh that carried just a little too far in the cafeteria.By noon, everyone knew.Jonah Diamond had been named the official student representative of LAU.And no one could agree on what that meant.It started outside the School of Business.A small group of students clustered near the steps, pretending to scroll through their phones while very obviously talking about the same thing.“That’s insane,” a girl said, shaking her head. “There were way more qualified students.”Her friend scoffed. “Qualified doesn’t matter when your last name weighs more than a GPA.”Another student leaned against the railing. “Come on. Let’s not act like we don’t know why this happened.”“B

The room smelled faintly of disinfectant and fresh flowers.Becky lay propped up against white pillows, one arm still bandaged, her hair pulled back loosely. The beeping of the monitor beside her was steady now—reassuring. Ordinary. The kind of sound that meant she was no longer in danger.A nurse had just left after giving her the update.You’ll be discharged today. Your family is on the way.Becky nodded, then hesitated. “Can you… let Jared know first?” she asked. “Before they come.”The nurse smiled gently. “Of course.”Now Becky waited.Her heart felt strangely light. Nervous, yes—but hopeful. She’d imagined this moment more than once over the last few days. Jared walking in, relief on his face, the tension easing between them. Maybe not everything fixed—but something softened.There was a knock at the door.Her lips curved instinctively. “Come in.”The door opened.And for a split second, the smile stayed.Then she saw them.Jared stepped inside first.And Shelly Adams walked in