Amaya's POV 

 The staring doesn't stop.

 We make it to American History—the only class all four of us have together—and every head turns when we walk in. Professor Klein pauses mid-sentence, then breaks into a smile.

 "Well, look who decided to join us," she says. "Our resident heroes."

 I want to sink into the floor.

 "We're not heroes," I mutter, sliding into my usual seat. "We just—"

 "Exposed a multi-state human trafficking and experimentation ring?" Klein supplies. "Yes, very ordinary Tuesday activity."

 The class laughs. Not mocking. Genuinely warm. 

 My mates settle around me—Alvaro on my left, Javier on my right, Luciano in the row behind. Their presence is comforting...