Scarlet stormed out of the library, clutching her books tightly. Her friends' words replayed in her mind, each one chipping away at her resolve. Could they be right? Could Micah be hiding something?
"No," she muttered under her breath. "Micah wouldn't do that to me."
But the doubt lingered, like an unwelcome shadow.
She wandered through the quiet corridors, seeking solace in the familiar sights of the academy. The stained-glass windows painted patterns of light and shadow on the stone walls, but even their beauty couldn't calm the storm inside her.
Micah stood in the training grounds, her sword slicing through the air in practiced arcs. The rhythmic movements were meant to focus her, but her thoughts were elsewhere.
Scarlet's face flashed in her mind—her smile, her trust, her vulnerability. Micah's grip on the hilt tightened.
"She's starting to suspect," Micah murmured to herself. "Or at least her friends are planting the seeds."