The luxury pathway cutting through Belview's campus gleamed under the afternoon sun.
Students drifted down it in clusters, their laughter and easy chatter filling the warm air.
Craig Lesnar and his best friend Keith stood just beyond the stream of students. Not trying to be noticed, but still difficult to overlook. It wasn't their style or wealth that made people glance twice. It was the quiet tension Craig carried, like his mind was always somewhere else, calculating, questioning, never fully present.
There was an aura about them, sure, but Craig wore his privilege more like armor than a crown—meant to distance, not dazzle.
"You know what I don't get?" Keith said, casually tossing a small pebble from hand to hand. "People act like money's the whole point. Bro, we were born with it. That's not the flex."
Craig tilted his head slightly, a knowing glint in his eye. "It's not about having it. It's about what people think you could do with it."
"Exactly. Power. Presence. Status," Keith agreed, smirking.
"Legacy," Craig finished quietly.
Keith chuckled, nudging him playfully. "Lesnar Global's next-gen leader talk. I see you, future king."
Craig offered only the faintest smile, but his mind was already elsewhere. His gaze drifted across the courtyard—and there she was.
Merlina Sanchez.
Walking beside Megan, animated in conversation, her hands moving as she spoke, eyebrows lifting with that spark of curiosity she didn't try to hide.
There was a quiet boldness in the way she carried herself, like she didn't need anyone's approval to take up space.
For one stolen second, Craig forgot how to breathe. Not because she looked perfect—but because she didn't care to.
His eyes stayed locked on her until Keith's voice broke the moment.
"Something wrong?"
Craig blinked, snapping his gaze away as if burned. "Nah," he said coolly, folding his arms over his chest.
But deep down, something stirred. Too unfamiliar to name just yet.
Meanwhile, Merlina walked with Megan, winding through the busy campus grounds.
"Okay, theory time," Megan announced dramatically. "If Professor Harper ever actually smiled, his face would crack. Like porcelain."
Merlina laughed under her breath. "Don't let him hear you say that. He'll probably invent a surprise oral exam just to punish you."
Megan slowed down, her eyes catching on something. Or someone. "There's Craig Lesnar," she muttered, the words dripping with disdain.
Merlina followed her gaze, even though she already knew who it was. Craig wasn't looking now, but she'd felt his eyes on her earlier—sharp, fleeting, and impossible to ignore. It had been one of those moments where her heart didn't quite know whether to speed up or freeze.
"Why does he walk like the universe revolves around his next move?" Megan remarked, her tone loaded with annoyance.
Merlina hesitated, the words hanging on the tip of her tongue. "I mean… there's something about him," she started, then caught herself, her voice trailing off like she'd wandered too close to a thought she wasn't ready to unpack.
Megan shot her a look, clearly expecting more. "Something like what?"
Merlina shrugged, pulling Megan gently by the arm, trying to keep her pace steady. "Nothing. He's just—whatever. Let's keep moving."
But the words felt too light. Too easy. Because deep down, Merlina knew it wasn't nothing. It never had been.
They moved toward the Professors' Memorial Wall, the stone monument lined with framed photos of Belview's long-serving faculty. Most were black-and-white, but a few newer ones stood out in color.
Merlina's steps slowed. Her fingers brushed over the glass as she scanned the rows. And then she found it.
A gap.
An empty frame, where her mother's photo should have been.
Still missing. Still erased. Like she never existed here.
Her chest tightened.
Then, the words from last night echoed. You're not as invisible as you think, Merlina.
The chill crawled up her spine. Whoever had sent that text knew too much. Knew she was here. Knew who she was.
She stared at the empty frame again, barely noticing her breath quickening.
Flashback:
The living room was warm, the lamp casting a soft glow. Fifteen-year-old Merlina sat cross-legged on the floor while her mother, Marjorie, flipped through an old Belview yearbook.
"See this building?" Marjorie tapped a faded photo. "That's where I taught my first class. I was a mess."
"Were you scared?" Merlina asked, eyes wide.
"Terrified," Marjorie laughed. "But I loved it. Belview made me feel like I mattered."
She smiled, tapping her own picture among the faculty. "Promise me something."
"What?"
"One day, you'll walk those halls too."
Merlina nodded, heart swelling.
Present Day:
Merlina stood frozen before the blank space where her mother's photo should have been. Her chest rose and fell in slow, steady breaths.
"I'm here now, but you're not." She whispered.
The silence was unbearable, like the world had turned its back. The empty frame didn't just erase her mother. It made Merlina question if she'd ever existed here at all.
Behind her, Megan scrolled through her phone, absentmindedly. "You coming?"
Merlina blinked, fighting the sting behind her eyes. "Yeah… just a sec." Megan didn't wait, already heading toward the classroom.
Merlina cast one last, lingering look at the empty frame, a tightness in her chest. It was so easy to feel invisible here. The very place her mother had once thrived now felt colder, less welcoming.
She turned away, the weight of the moment settling deeper. The campus buzzed around her as she rounded a corner, clutching the new student handbook against her chest. And then, up ahead, she saw him.
Craig Lesnar.
Her pulse quickened involuntarily, a jolt of something she couldn't name pulling her forward. Before she could stop herself, her steps quickened, closing the distance between them.
"Hey, Craig… um, I wanted—"
He glanced at her briefly. Then, without a word, he turned and walked away.
Merlina froze, her words dying in her throat. The lump in her chest grew heavy, her jaw clenched, and her cheeks burned with the sting of embarrassment. She stared at the new handbook in her hands, wishing she could just disappear.
It was like she wasn't even there. Like she didn't matter.
Just like her mom.
After classes, the campus thinned out, the chatter fading behind Craig Lesnar and Keith as they walked. Craig barely registered the students moving aside in their path, his focus elsewhere.
Keith was talking, but Craig wasn't fully paying attention. He rarely did when the conversation didn't involve something that actually mattered to him.
"I'm done with Naomi," Keith said, running a hand through his messy hair. "For real this time. I need someone new—fresh, fun, zero drama. Someone who doesn't check my location every five minutes."
Craig arched an eyebrow. "So, a ghost?"
Keith laughed. "If she's hot, I'd consider it."
Craig smirked, but it didn't last. Something caught his attention—sharp, unexpected.
Across the courtyard, Merlina Sanchez stepped out of the library with Phoebe. Her bag strap slid down her shoulder, and she adjusted it absently, her movements quick, unguarded. The wind pulled at her hair, sending it across her face in soft waves.
Her laugh rang out, light and unguarded, cutting through the noise around them. Craig's breath caught, his eyes locked on her, unable to look away.
"Maybe that girl from psych class—Tania. You remember her?" Keith kept talking, oblivious.
Craig barely heard him. His feet stayed rooted, watching Merlina as she moved through the crowd, unaware of how the world seemed to bend around her.
"Yeah…" Craig's voice came out distant. "I remember."
But his mind was still on Merlina.
She glanced around, her eyes sweeping past him without stopping. She turned, walking off, her hair catching the light one last time before she disappeared down the path.
Keith continued, unaware of the shift happening just a few feet away. Craig barely caught a word. He took a step forward. Then stopped.
Something tugged at him. That moment earlier. The one where she'd tried to talk to him… and he just dismissed her.
A habit he had formed over the years—being inaccessible, a defense against people who always wanted something from him.
But now, seeing her laugh like it hadn't fazed her. Like his brush-off hadn't even made a dent—it felt… pointless. Absurd. For the first time, he questioned if shutting her out had been the right move at all.
He didn't want to care. But clearly, he did.
What had she wanted to say?