The hallway is loud with lockers and laughter, but none of it touches you anymore. You are fifteen, visibly pregnant, and alone in every way that counts. The boy who put you here walks these same halls and looks straight through you. You have learned to keep your eyes down and your face still. Then there is Rook. He leans against the far wall like he owns it, and every time you look up, he is already watching. Not the way others watch - not with pity or whispers behind hands. Something harder and quieter than that.