Coming Rivalry, Chaotic Senior Year 2

The rumors were too fresh. The whispers about her father. The scandal circling the Blackwoods. No one wanted to be the idiot to bring it up in front of her. Not because they feared retaliation—Annabelle didn't need to lash out. Her silence could cut deeper than words.

Yet beneath that unbothered facade, there was a sharpness to her expression, a tightness around her eyes that betrayed the weight she was carrying.

She made her way to her usual seat, the same spot near the front where she always sat with a perfect view of the entire room. Before she could settle, though, a group of her friends leaned in with hushed excitement, phones subtly angled in her direction. One of them, a girl with dark lipstick and a smug grin, tilted her screen just enough for Annabelle to catch the video.

A photo.

The Rolls Royce.

Naomi stepping out first. And then Parker.