It was the first day of senior year, and the hallways of Westfield High were buzzing with that electric energy that only comes when everyone's pretending the summer didn't happen. Lockers slammed, sneakers squeaked on linoleum, and clusters of friends hugged like they hadn't seen each other in years instead of weeks.

Gabriel walked through those halls like a ghost.

Not literally, of course. But close enough. Conversations died mid-sentence when he passed. A group of girls by the water fountain would suddenly find something fascinating about their phones. Two guys who used to be his teammates in basketball would openly turn their backs, pretending to be absorbed in a locker conversation they weren't having.

"Oh God it's him..." The girls would whisper, trying to be secretive but failing ridiculously

The rumor had started sophomore year—that Gabriel had killed Marcus Webb, some kid from the wrong side of town. Nobody asked for his side. Nobody cared. A lie travels faster than truth, and this one had legs.