Chapter 1

They made me pick up their takeout for three years. Four hundred and twenty-seven times.

They told me a scholarship student should know her place.

On the day of the Centennial Gala, I walked onto the stage in a simple white shirt. The host leaned into the microphone and said― “Please welcome our guest of honor, the world-renowned author, Night Breeze.”

I still remember the color of Seraphina Sterling’s face.

What she didn’t know was that her father had offered me twenty million dollars to buy my film rights. I turned him down six times.

###1.

I pushed open the door to Room 406, carrying an old duffel bag in my left hand.

A girl was sitting on the bed by the window, painting her nails.

She looked up.

Her gaze traveled from my worn bag to my face, then back again.

“Freshman?” she asked, slamming the nail polish bottle onto the nightstand with a sharp click.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Which bed?”

I checked my housing assignment. “Bed three.”

She gave a small smirk. Her lips curled, but her eyes remained cold.

“Bed three is the one by the door. Great ventilation.”

It was August in Chicago. The bed by the door faced the hallway, and every time the door opened, a wave of humid heat would rush in.

I didn't say a word. I just set my bag down on the mattress.

My other two roommates arrived shortly after. Seraphina Sterling was already bossing them around, telling them to move their things further inside.

“The two window beds have the best light. The three of us can split those,” she declared.

No one asked for my opinion.

I sat on the bed by the door and unzipped my duffel. My mom had packed a heavy quilt, two changes of clothes, and a new pair of sneakers. There was also a small cloth pouch containing a debit card.

My phone buzzed.

A bank alert appeared: Balance $12,830,476.50.

I dimmed the screen.

Seraphina was pulling items out of her designer suitcase. A makeup vanity, a curling iron, and a full set of La Mer skincare.

She spared me a glance.

“Where are you from, honey?”

“Kentucky,” I said.

“Oh.” She nodded knowingly. “One of those coal mining towns, right? I bet you’re on those federal aid programs?”

“I am.”

“It’s fine.” She clapped her hands, her tone dripping with fake sincerity. “A scholarship kid should look the part. Don't be like those people who pretend to be rich when they're not. We won't judge you in this dorm.”

Wendy, another roommate, glanced at me and bit her lip but stayed silent.

Quinn―the third girl―hit it off with Seraphina immediately.

After the lights went out, the hallway light leaked under the door, casting a long stripe across the floor tiles.

Seraphina spoke up in the darkness. “Let’s set the chore schedule tomorrow.”

No one responded.

She added with a chuckle, “Lydia, I’m sure you’re used to doing chores back home. You should take care of the common areas. It'll be easy for you.”

I stared at the ceiling.

My phone glowed under the covers. I looked at that bank balance one more time.

Then, I deleted the notification.