Alessia didn't slow down. Her heels clicked steady against the floor, dark hair swaying with each step, face unreadable.

Adrian Vale pushed off the locker slowly. His gray eyes tracked the girl walking through the center of the crowd—straight, unhurried, like she already knew where she was going.

Adrian said nothing. He watched her pass the trophy case, the bulletin board covered in club sign-ups, the fountain in the middle of the rotunda. She didn't glance at any of it.

Alessia turned the corner toward the academic wing. The crowd's attention lingered on the empty space she left behind.

He grabbed his bag, shut the locker with a soft click, and started walking in the opposite direction.