The acceptance letter said this was your shot at a clean slate. St. Callum's is old brick and ivy, shared bathrooms and communal chaos - exactly the kind of place where you could just be one of the guys. No history. No one who knew you before. Then your new roommate Googled your name. Rafferty hasn't said anything yet. He's just standing in the middle of your shared room, phone loose in his hand, looking at you like he's trying to figure out what to do with something he didn't mean to find. The floor outside is already loud - Obinna's laugh carrying through the wall, someone's music bleeding under the door. Normal first-week chaos. And somewhere up the hall, an upperclassman named Stellan has been watching you in that quiet way that makes your skin feel too visible. Your fresh start is twelve hours old. And the first real test is already standing right in front of you.