Chapter 35

After lunch, Clifford and Laird brought Jeanette with them to the sophomore homeroom-Class 8.

As soon as the class rep spotted their group lingering in the hallway, she ducked back into the classroom.

"Citrine Carmichael, wake up!" She gave Citrine a rough shake, not bothering to be gentle.

Jolted awake from her mid-day nap, Citrine blinked at her, startled and a little dazed.

Sybil wasn't angry, but somehow she still felt nervous under Citrine's steady gaze. For a moment, her mind went blank, and she forgot what she was supposed to say.

After an awkward pause, Citrine finally broke the silence.

"You're interrupting my nap," she said flatly, her tone as cold as if she were talking to a stranger.

Sybil felt a pang of discomfort at the brush-off. She pointed out the window toward the group waiting outside and mumbled, "I just wanted to tell you-someone's here to see you."

Citrine followed her gaze, and her expression instantly soured. Everyone knew she'd cut ties with the Iverson family, and now this girl was acting as their messenger-her motivations weren't hard to guess.

sleeping? Not going," Citrine

She looked wounded. "Why are you being

her irritation barely concealed. "Sensitive much?"

Sybil was

you. How

in disbelief. "You don't know who I

in the same class, after all-and Sybil was the class rep, for

her memory

words drew a round of laughter

lay her head back on the desk, ready to drift

shrug at the people waiting outside, signaling that she'd tried her

grabbed the thickest book he

shot up from her seat just as the book clipped her temple, the spine cutting her skin. Blood

she's bleeding!"

calm almost unnerving. By all rights, she should have been furious, but not a hint of emotion showed on her face. Even when she wasn't smiling, she never looked harsh or volatile-she didn't seem

of an eye, something no one expected

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