Shadow in the halls

The university had once been her father's pride, a sanctuary of learning and knowledge. Now, it was a place filled with whispers and lingering gazes, where power ruled over principles.

Amara walked through the grand halls, her presence met with disdain and quiet murmurs. The very air felt different—as if the walls themselves rejected her, as if she was an intruder in a place that once belonged to her family. Students dressed in designer clothes sneered at her worn-out attire, their conversations laced with mockery whenever she passed.

"Look at her," someone whispered behind her. "Still pretending she belongs here."

"She probably found another job to spread her legs for," another voice snickered.

Amara kept her head high, refusing to react, though the words burned into her skin like open wounds. She had grown used to it, but the sting never lessened. The stares, the whispers, the suffocating sense of isolation—it all built up, day by day, pushing her to the edge of endurance.

Among the many who treated her with contempt, there were two professors who stood out—both had once known her father, both had once cared for her, and now, both seemed to resent her very existence.

Professor Ethan Wallace—The Librarian

Professor Wallace had been one of her father's closest friends, a man with a love for books and philosophy. He had once treated Amara like a niece, always encouraging her to read more, to dream bigger. She had spent hours in his library as a child, curled up with ancient books while he shared stories of her father's youth.

Now, he barely looked at her.

His cold demeanor cut deeper than the taunts of students. Every time she entered the library, he would pretend not to see her. If she dared to ask for a book, his responses were clipped, devoid of warmth.

"You should consider spending less time here, Miss Lenz," he said once, his eyes never leaving the book he was reading. "There's nothing left for you in this place."

She had swallowed the lump in her throat and left without another word. The library, once a place of refuge, had become just another battleground.

Professor Henry Caldwell—Her Father's Old Friend

Caldwell had once adored her. He had been her father's most trusted colleague, a man who had sat at their dinner table countless times, laughing over shared memories. He had even carried her on his shoulders when she was a child, promising to watch over her always.

Now, his gaze held nothing but disdain.

Amara had tried speaking to him once, hoping to find some remnant of the man who had once cared for her.

"You should have never come back here," he said sharply, his expression unreadable. "Your father made his choices, and he paid the price. Leave before you suffer the same fate."

The words had stunned her, but before she could respond, he had turned away.

The university was Victor Aldridge's territory now. He had poisoned everything, turning even those who once loved her against her.

But Amara refused to be broken.

Even as the walls closed in, as the whispers turned to laughter, as the professors who had once been her allies became her enemies, she stood her ground.

The Campus and Its Cruelty

The university itself had changed in ways that left Amara feeling like an outsider. The campus, once warm and welcoming, had transformed into something cold and oppressive. The modern glass structures, the manicured gardens, and the grand lecture halls felt suffocating under Victor Aldridge's influence.

The student body mirrored their benefactor's cruelty. The rich, the privileged, the entitled—they thrived under Aldridge's control. Those beneath them either bowed in submission or became objects of ridicule. Amara, unfortunately, had been marked as the latter.

Whispers trailed her wherever she went. Some students simply ignored her, others made sure she knew she was unwanted.

One afternoon, as she crossed the courtyard, a group of girls giggled behind her.

"She probably wore that dress three days in a row," one sneered.

"Maybe longer," another chimed in. "She can't afford more."

Amara clenched her fists, keeping her head down.

In the lecture hall, it wasn't much better. The professors barely acknowledged her, and when they did, it was with thinly veiled disapproval. Even the seating arrangements reflected the social divide—students like her were pushed to the edges, while the wealthier ones dominated the front rows.

A Target for Their Amusement

The worst part was the deliberate cruelty.

One day, Amara found her locker vandalized. The words "Beggar" and "Slut" were scrawled across it in bright red marker. Her books were missing, likely thrown in the trash. When she turned around, a group of students stood watching, smirking.

She didn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her break.

She calmly cleaned off the words, gathered what was left of her belongings, and walked away. But inside, the weight of it all grew heavier.

The attacks weren't always obvious. Sometimes they were subtle—snide comments in the hallways, a chair being pulled away just as she sat down, whispers that never stopped.

One day, in the cafeteria, a boy "accidentally" spilled an entire tray of food on her lap.

"Oh no," he said with mock concern. "I hope you didn't need those clothes."

Laughter erupted around her.

Amara clenched her jaw, forcing herself to remain still, to swallow her humiliation. She refused to cry. Not here. Not in front of them.

The Last Bastion of Kindness

Despite everything, there were a few who didn't treat her with outright hostility. Some of the older staff members, those who had been there during her father's time, still offered her small gestures of kindness—an extra cup of tea in the cafeteria, a nod of acknowledgment.

But kindness was dangerous in a place like this. Anyone who showed her favor risked the wrath of those in power. And so, most remained silent, watching from a distance, unwilling to get involved.

Even the ones who once loved her were now too afraid to stand by her side.

Amara had no allies here.

And she knew it was exactly what Victor Aldridge wanted.

He had taken everything from her once before.

Now, he was trying to do it again.

But she would not let him win.