The intercom crackles, and the principal's voice cuts through the chaos.

The bell rings.

It's a sharp, slicing sound, and it sets everything in motion.

Sam's lips curl into a snarl, and she shoves a freshman out of her way, striding toward me with purpose. I meet her halfway, my heart pounding against my ribs like it's trying to escape.

Then all hell breaks loose.

I duck a wild swing and shove through the chaos, making for the stairs. Sam's right behind me, her footsteps a drumbeat of fury. We're not talking anymore. There's only one goal now: get to higher ground, put this to rest.

The stairwell is a war zone. Bodies press and shove, and I sink into my stance, elbows up, breath steady. Sam's footwork is sharp, better than I remember, and she drives me back step by step until my heel hits the edge of the landing.

Her eyes flash with triumph.

The world tilts. The ceiling spins. I hear Miguel scream my name, but it's already too late—I'm falling, and all I can see is the floor rushing up to meet me.