*Roanne’s POV*The room felt like a prison, walls closing in with each ragged breath I took. Hugging my knees to my chest, I sat on the edge of my bed—a lone figure marooned on an island of rumpled sheets and discarded dreams. My eyes were fixed on the white wall, yet I saw nothing but Sebastian's sneering face, heard nothing but his voice dripping with venomous charm."Ro? Roanne, are you in there?" Lizzie's voice pierced through the thick veil of my despair, muffled at first, then growing more insistent.Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Her knocks matched the erratic rhythm of my heart—a staccato beat signaling urgency, a crescendo of concern. "Roanne!" she called out again, her voice betraying a note of panic that echoed my own inner turmoil.I should answer, let her know I'm alive, albeit barely. But the words were caged inside me, behind bars forged from humiliation and hurt. Instead, I remained frozen, my gaze still locked onto nothingness."Damn it, Roanne. Please…" The desperat
*Roanne’s POV*The world was a smudge of grey when I peeled my eyes open, the predawn light barely scraping through the blinds. Sleep had been an elusive predator, circling me with silent steps, always just out of reach. I lay there in the half-light, a tangle of sheets and heavy limbs.Gingerly, I reached up to feel the tender spots on my neck, wincing at the contact. My fingers traced the dark blooms of bruises, a cruel garden Sebastian had planted with possessive hands. A sigh escaped me as I turned to face my reflection in the mirror, confronting the canvas of my pain. The girl who stared back was a stranger — pale, her blond locks in dishevelment, her green eyes clouded with unshed tears.‘Cover it up, Roanne,’ I whispered to myself, reaching for the silk scarf hanging over the chair. Its softness was a lie as it grazed my skin, hiding the marks with a careful drape. I chose a light jacket next, one that clung to my form without pressing too close to the bruises on my arm. The
*Roanne’s POV*The final words from Professor Harlan's lecture on social justice theory lingered in the air like a challenged verdict, but my mind had already slipped out of the courtroom of academia and into the murky waters of retribution. The Revenge Club gathering tonight was a silent gavel pounding in my chest, its echo resonating with both dread and determination."Hey, Ro." Lizzie's voice cut through the hum of departing students, her presence at the door a steadfast beacon. She leaned against the frame, arms crossed, the embodiment of support mixed with a shadow of protective fury. Her eyes held that familiar, smoldering edge, a dark kindling from the fire she'd been stoking since freshman year."Thanks for waiting," I mumbled, shuffling my notes into an organized chaos within my backpack."Of course," she replied, unwavering. "How are you feeling about tonight?" Her question pierced the veil of casual concern, probing directly into my nerves, which were strung tight like p
*Roanne’s POV*The folder had felt like salvation in my hands, a paper shield crafted by Caleb's digital sword. I settled into the creaking embrace of my desk chair, the dim light of dawn peering through my dorm room blinds.Fingers trembling with something akin to excitement, I peeled back the cover of the folder. The meticulous arrangement of schedules, the crisp printouts outlining my academic life rearranged, danced before my eyes. Each page fluttered like a hesitant heartbeat as I flipped through them, the gravity of what Caleb had done settling deep within my bones."Roanne," the note began, in Caleb's calculated scrawl, "It's done. Sebastian won't be an issue; not in your classes, not on your path. Your classes are now always at the opposite side of campus as his." I imagined him hunched over his computer, lines of code reflecting in his steely gaze—his way of righting wrongs that the justice system failed to address.A hacker's sense of justice, dark and unquestionable. M
*Roanne’s POV*The mahogany shelves of the university library gave me comfort. I admired the knowledge they kept, guarding the hushed secrets whispered between their ancient tomes. I felt the weight of those secrets pressing against my chest as I traced the spine of a leather-bound book, its title embossed in gold, yet faded by time.The Revenge Club had been an intoxicating elixir, seducing me with the promise of justice and empowerment. But I wondered if the tasks escalated, so would the gnawing unease that feasted on my resolve. I wore a masquerade of control, but beneath the mask, doubt danced in the shadows."Ro?" Lizzie's voice sliced through the silence, her eyes probing mine with a mix of concern and camaraderie. "You've been quiet all morning."I glanced up, meeting the gaze of my best friend."Last night with Aaron," I began, the words spilling out in a whisper. "It wasn't just an assignment; it was… intimate, raw." My hands trembled slightly as I closed the book, the
*Roanne’s POV*The clatter of silverware and the murmur of voices created a familiar comfort in the university's dining hall, a backdrop to my own swirling thoughts. I was picking at my salad when Lila slid into the seat opposite me, her eyes wide with the kind of excitement that usually heralded some juicy piece of campus news."Roanne, you won't believe what I read today," Lila said, barely containing her glee as she leaned in closer. The scent of her peach perfume wafted over the table, a sweet note amidst the savory smells of lunchtime fare.I put down my fork, my interest piqued despite myself. "What's the latest scandal then?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light, though part of me dreaded what fresh drama might be unfolding."Okay, so you know Joe Atkins, right? The senior who always brags about his stock portfolio?" She barely waited for my nod before continuing, "Turns out he bought his grades. And he was caught! Can you imagine? He's been suspended."My eyebrows shot
*Roanne’s POV*The elegant suit composed by a pencil skirt and a very silky blouse, hung there, like a second skin, its emerald green hue a promise of lush secrets unfolding beneath. Intricate lace adorned its length, the threadwork an ode to the delicate dance that awaited me at The Velvet Room. Lizzie's deft fingers brushed against my skin as she helped me slip into the silkiness, her presence both comforting and conspiratorial."Roanne, you look..." Lizzie trailed off, her eyes wide with something akin to awe or perhaps envy."Like someone who doesn't belong," I breathed out, my nerves jangling like the fine gold chain I clasped around my neck. This wasn't just fabric draping my body; it was armor, fortifying me for the battle ahead. “Why would they have to dress all like this anyway?”"Stop," Lizzie snapped gently, her tone allowing no room for self-doubt. "You belong wherever you damn please. And just so you know, wearing elegant suits is also like armor, the better you dres
*Roanne’s POV*The lake's glassy surface mirrored the waning light, shards of the dying day dancing across its gentle ripples. Michael and I claimed the secret haven, a secluded table nestled in the corner, nature's whispering embrace encircling us with an intimacy that felt both daring and dangerous."Quite the view," he murmured, his voice a smooth caress against the backdrop of rustling leaves and distant birdsong."Michael," I began, a name now laden with complexities I was only beginning to unravel. "I never imagined—""Shh," he interrupted, a single finger raised to his lips, eyes glinting with mischief. "Let's savor the silence for just a moment longer."Despite the tranquil setting, my skin prickled with an electric current of curiosity about him. As I feigned calm, my gaze betrayed me, flitting around, searching… seeking Aaron. I couldn't shake the feeling that he was still here, lurking in the shadows, watching. But no, there was only absence—a void where his presence