The moment Lottie stepped through the school gates that morning, the world was already shifting. She could feel it in the way eyes snapped to her, in the sharp crackle of whispers cutting through the air like static. Her fingers brushed the edge of her skirt as she walked, smoothing fabric that didn't need smoothing, pulse hammering just beneath her skin.
The score sheet had gone up.
A cluster of students huddled near the main bulletin board, their chatter rising in excited, disbelieving waves. "Did you see it? She aced everything. Every single subject!"
"That's impossible. She was barely mid-tier last year."
"Maybe it's a mistake," someone muttered, their voice taut with suspicion, the words tight and bitter as they sliced through the hum of voices.
Lottie lifted her chin, pushing her shoulders back, and walked straight into the storm. The hallway narrowed around her as heads turned, conversations faltered, and eyes flicked from the posted sheet to her face, wide with awe or tinged with resentment. Every step felt heavy, as though the ground itself was testing her resolve, the air thick with expectation and disbelief.
Amy materialized at her side like a shadow, clutching the strap of her bag with white-knuckled fingers. "Lottie," she half-whispered, half-squeaked, her breath a rush of warmth against the cold edge of the morning, "everyone's talking about you."
"I noticed," Lottie murmured, the corner of her mouth tugging upward, though her stomach twisted in knots. The thud of her heartbeat filled her ears, each step feeling heavier, more deliberate, as if the floor itself had become a stage beneath her feet. Her skin prickled with awareness; she could feel every flicker of attention, every sharp inhale, every sudden hush as she passed.
She let her gaze drift over the crowd—and there she was. Evelyn.
Leaning gracefully against the lockers, surrounded by a tight ring of admirers, Evelyn's brittle smile barely masked the tension coiling beneath. Her fingers tapped a silent rhythm against her phone, the screen's faint glow catching the sharp angle of her jaw. Lottie's eyes tracked the faint tremble of Evelyn's grip, the slight pulse beating visibly at the hollow of her throat.
A darting glance. A forced laugh. A sip of water taken just a little too quickly.
Lottie's lips curved, a delicate, razor-thin smile that felt like a small act of rebellion.
"Congratulations, Lottie!" one of the teachers called as she passed, their smile polite but their eyes flickering between the sisters. Another murmured, "Well done," in a voice edged with something closer to astonishment than praise, the words hanging awkwardly in the charged air.
"Thanks," Lottie answered smoothly, her voice light as air, though her fingers itched to clench into fists. She forced her hands to stay loose, her fingertips brushing the seams of her skirt as a grounding tether.
Amy leaned closer, her breath coming in small, nervous puffs, eyes darting anxiously from Lottie to the murmuring crowd. "I didn't even know you were… I mean, this is huge."
Lottie gave her a side-glance, one brow arched in faint amusement. "Neither did Evelyn, I imagine."
Amy's breath hitched, a nervous laugh bubbling from her throat. "Right. Yeah." She twisted a lock of hair anxiously, glancing toward Evelyn's corner. "She's… handling it well, don't you think?"
Lottie tilted her head, watching Evelyn's mask of serenity stretch thinner with every passing second. "Oh, I think she's handling it beautifully," she murmured, voice dipped in silk and ice, the words wrapping around her like armor.
A sudden spike of movement near the bulletin board drew her attention. Leo, lounging with infuriating ease near the edge of the crowd, caught her eye and tipped his head in a barely perceptible nod. His mouth curved, a spark of private amusement flickering across his face before he turned back to his phone, the picture of studied disinterest.
The knot in Lottie's chest loosened, just a fraction. The sight of Leo, casual and unbothered, steadied the jittery storm in her limbs, gave her the faintest sense of anchor amid the rush of adrenaline.
A ripple of commotion ran through the students, phones lighting up, notifications pinging in rapid bursts. Lottie caught glimpses of social media posts flashing across screens—her name, her scores, side-by-side snapshots of her and Evelyn under breathless captions.
"Did you hear? She dethroned Evelyn."
"Perfect scores, no way."
"She must have cheated," someone hissed, sharp and bitter, and Lottie felt her spine stiffen, her fingers tightening just slightly at her sides. But before she could react, a voice cut through the noise.
"Well, some of us actually work for our results." Evelyn's voice, sweet as spun sugar, floated over the crowd like a ribbon pulled taut.
Lottie turned slowly. Evelyn's eyes glittered like polished glass as she approached, each step measured, graceful, lethal.
"Lottie," Evelyn murmured, a smile curving her lips, "how impressive. You really surprised us all."
There it was—the edge beneath the velvet, the blade wrapped in lace.
Lottie's lips parted, her own smile soft, almost absent. "Oh, I'm just full of surprises lately." Her voice was a purr, silk sliding over steel, and the faintest flicker passed through Evelyn's eyes, a barely-there narrowing of pupils, a tightness at the corners of her mouth.
Evelyn's fingers tightened on her phone, the faintest pop of plastic beneath pressure. "I do hope," she murmured, head tilting just enough to let her hair slide over one shoulder, "that you're enjoying the attention. It can be… fleeting."
"Oh, I'm savoring every second," Lottie whispered back, leaning in just slightly, catching the faint sharpness of Evelyn's perfume, the rigid line of her spine, the flicker of tension in her throat. She could see the faint quiver in Evelyn's lower lip, the tiniest pulse at her temple.
Amy shuffled beside them, awkward laughter tumbling from her lips, her fingers fluttering like nervous birds at her sides. "Um, maybe we should head to class—"
"Of course," Lottie said smoothly, slipping past Evelyn with a brush of her shoulder that left the barest whisper of contact, the lightest ghost of defiance. Evelyn's breath hitched—barely audible, but Lottie heard it, felt it, a jolt of electricity sharp enough to chase the last shiver of doubt from her veins.
As they moved down the hall, the whispering surged again, a tidal pull of curiosity and suspicion snapping at their heels. Amy's fingers brushed Lottie's arm, half-seeking reassurance, half-anchored by fascination, her pulse a jittery flutter against Lottie's skin.
"Lottie," Amy murmured, her voice trembling like a thread stretched too thin, "how did you—"
"Practice," Lottie said softly, eyes sharp as shattered glass. "And patience."
Ahead, a teacher emerged from the staff room, face tight with surprise, lips pressing into a thin line that barely contained their curiosity. "Lottie, the headmaster wants to see your parents. Please tell them to expect a call."
Lottie inclined her head, calm as a frozen lake. "Of course."
Her pulse roared in her ears as she turned away, her smile fixed, her hands loose at her sides though her fingers itched to shake, to curl into fists, to punch through the charged, humming air.
Beside her, Amy bounced nervously on the balls of her feet. "Everyone's going to be talking about you," she said in a half-whisper, half-squeal, her eyes wide, shining with a cocktail of awe and anxiety. "You're… famous now."
Lottie's lips curved, the chill in her chest burning into a bright, fierce heat. "Good," she murmured under her breath, a private flare of defiance. "Let them talk."
Behind her, a sharp sound—a fingernail tapping against glass, rapid, staccato—cut through the din. Lottie didn't have to turn to know it was Evelyn.
The duel had officially begun.
The bell shrilled overhead, scattering students toward their classrooms. As Lottie moved through the thinning crowd, her body tense with controlled energy, she caught a last glimpse of Evelyn, standing very still in the middle of the hallway, her smile frozen, her eyes sharp and cold, like a doll's eyes glinting under glass.
For a heartbeat, their gazes locked across the sea of parting bodies.
Lottie's chest tightened, a flicker of triumph and dread twisting together, sharp as wire. She drew a slow breath, steadying herself. Her pulse raced, her skin hummed with tension, but her spine stayed straight, her chin lifted.
This wasn't the end. It was only the opening move.
As she slipped into the classroom, her heart hammering like a war drum, a message buzzed faintly against her thigh. She pulled her phone free under the desk, shielding the screen with her palm.
From Leo: Nice move. But careful—she's watching.
Lottie's fingers tightened around the phone, a faint, fierce smile curving her lips as she slipped it back into her pocket. Her heart pounded against her ribs, each beat a hard, glorious reminder that she was no longer a spectator in Evelyn's perfect play.
Outside, in the hallway, Evelyn's voice floated on the air, brittle and sweet, like sugar dissolving in acid. "She's just having a moment. It'll pass."
Lottie's hand curled slowly into a fist beneath her desk, a shiver skating down her spine, the cool press of the desktop anchoring her as she closed her eyes just briefly.
Oh no, Evelyn. This moment is only just beginning.