The week rolled in with a strange undercurrent at Westbrooke High. The usual chatter filled the hallways, lockers slammed, sneakers squeaked against the polished floors, yet something felt different. It wasn’t the kind of shift most people could name, but those who paid close attention might have noticed a quiet rearranging of loyalties and glances.

In the cafeteria, Daisy and Jordan sat across from each other, their trays between them, but most of the food remained untouched. Jordan was leaning forward slightly, one elbow on the table, his hand loosely wrapped around a fork he’d stopped using ten minutes ago. Daisy mirrored his posture without realizing it, listening intently as...