Twelve years had passed.
Ivy now stood on the edge of adulthood, in her final year at Brown Brooke High. The school's corridors—long, pale, and echoing—were unusually quiet that afternoon, as though the building itself were holding its breath.
Near the lockers, a boy with neatly combed black hair and piercing brown eyes stood facing Klara. His hands trembled slightly at his sides, his face flushed a deep, betraying red as he searched her hazelnut-brown eyes.
"Klara," he muttered, his voice barely steady, "I really like you."
She blinked, then laughed softly in disbelief. "Are you serious?"
"I'd never lie to you," he said quickly, managing a nervous smile. "So… would you go out with me?"
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to pause.
Then Klara laughed.
Not a warm laugh—but a sharp, cold sound that sliced through the silence and sent a shiver down the boy's spine.
"Ray," she said mockingly, tilting her head, "was it my sister who lied to you?"
He frowned, confusion clouding his face. "What do you mean?"
"I would never like a guy like you," Klara replied flatly.
"W–why?" Ray stammered.
She stepped closer, her smile cruel. "You really can't tell? Then let me make it clear."
"You probably only got into Brown Brooke on a scholarship," she continued, her voice dripping with contempt. "You can't even afford my shoes. So tell me—do you really think you deserve me?"
She straightened, pride radiating from her posture. "I'm Klara Hansen—one of the prettiest, most popular girls in this school. Backwater trash like you shouldn't even think of standing near me."
Ray's knees buckled as Klara turned on her heel and walked away, leaving him crumpled on the floor, heartbroken and humiliated.
As she strutted down the hallway, her steps confident and unbothered, she nearly collided with Ivy.
"You didn't have to break him like that," Ivy whispered, her fists clenched at her sides.
Klara glanced back with a sly grin but said nothing.
Ivy followed Ray to an empty classroom, where he sat hunched over a desk, eyes swollen and cheeks still flushed with shame. Guilt weighed heavily in Ivy's chest—for encouraging him, for believing kindness might soften Klara's sharp edges.
She had just opened her mouth to speak when a firm hand landed on her shoulder.
Ivy stiffened and turned.
Miles stood behind her, his jaw tight, his eyes burning with restrained anger as he stared past her at Ray.
"Who did this to him?" Miles asked quietly.
"Klara," Ivy replied.
"That brat," Miles snapped, taking a step forward.
"Please," Ivy said quickly, gripping his sleeve. "Leave it."
Miles hesitated, then scoffed. "She doesn't deserve someone like you."
Before Ivy could respond, he slung his bag over his shoulder and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.
That evening, Ivy returned home drained and silent. Klara burst through the front door moments later, eyes blazing.
"Ivy!" she shouted. "You've always been in the spotlight. So how does it feel to live as nothing but a shadow?"
Ivy met her gaze calmly. "You know nothing about me."
The room fell into an uneasy silence.
Morning arrived too soon.
Sunlight filtered through the curtains as Klara sat at the dining table, her expression unreadable. Ivy entered shortly after, dressed neatly, her movements calm and unhurried.
"Klara, hurry or we'll be late," Ivy said gently.
"Yes, Ivy's right," their mother added. "Take your lunch and get going."
"Okay, Mom," Klara replied, forcing a smile.
In the car, Klara and her father sang loudly along to the radio, their voices filling the space. Ivy sat quietly in the back seat, staring out the window, her reflection flickering against the glass. Klara watched her in confusion, unable to decide whether she envied Ivy's peace—or resented it.
At the school gates, the girls stepped out and spotted Mike waiting near the entrance.
"Ivy!" Mike called, waving.
Ivy hurried over, and the two exchanged their familiar secret handshake, ending in a tight bear hug. Klara stood a few steps behind them, fists clenched, jealousy simmering beneath her smile.
A forced cough broke the moment.
Both turned to see Klara. Mike's expression hardened instantly, but Ivy nudged him gently, urging restraint.
"Hi, Klara," Mike said coolly before taking Ivy's hand and walking away.
Ray appeared moments later, passing Klara without even a glance. Her eyes widened as she watched him follow Ivy and Mike down the hall, laughing softly with them.
Something inside her cracked.
The final day of high school arrived quietly.
The trio sat together in an empty classroom, trading jokes and memories, until the door creaked open.
Silence fell.
Klara stepped inside.
Ray rolled his eyes. Mike rose to his feet, glancing briefly at Ivy's pleading expression before facing Klara.
"Klara," he said evenly, "how can we help you?"
She swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper."Can we talk outside?"