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.

see I'm sleeping? Not

expected her to be so difficult. She looked wounded. "Why

laughed at that, her irritation barely concealed. "Sensitive much?" she

was genuinely

out a short, sharp laugh. "I don't even know you. How am I supposed to act

in disbelief. "You don't

all-and Sybil was the class rep, for heaven's sake.

searched her memory

of

Citrine lay her head back on the

apologetic shrug at the people waiting

and grabbed the thickest book he could find from a nearby desk. He hurled it straight

up from her seat just as the book clipped her temple, the spine cutting her skin. Blood began to trickle down the side

my God, she's

as if she hadn't even noticed, her 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

in the blink of an eye, something

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