Snow’s Point of View:

“Bye, guys,” I called out as I slipped on my sneakers near the front door. My fingers fumbled slightly with the laces, but I ignored it.

I needed to get out of the house, back to school, and back to some sense of normalcy. I missed Nia’s easy-going energy and Troy’s quiet but oddly comforting presence.

“Snow,” my dad’s voice stopped me just as I reached for the doorknob. “Your glasses are on the table.”

I froze for a moment before glancing over at the dining table, where a sleek black case sat waiting. I hadn’t even thought about them this morning.

“Oh,” I said quietly, walking over and picking up the case. When I opened it, the glasses inside caught the light. They were simple and elegant, a matte black frame that was both practical and stylish.

I hesitated, running my fingers along the smooth edges before slipping them on.

The change was immediate and overwhelming. Everything snapped into focus—the grain of the wood on the table, the subtle lines in the wallpaper, the faint sunlight streaming through the windows.

“Better?” Dad asked, his tone light but probing.

I nodded, adjusting the glasses slightly. “Yeah. Thanks.”

I glanced at him briefly, catching the way his face softened. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but I turned back toward the door, unwilling to open up that conversation.

“Snow,” he started again, his voice quieter now. “About what happened—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I interrupted quickly, gripping the strap of my bag tighter. My words came out harsher than I intended, but I didn’t apologize. “Not right now.”

He let out a small sigh, but I didn’t wait for him to respond. I stepped outside, the cool morning air brushing against my skin.

The house felt too heavy lately, like it was filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension. I needed a break. School, for all its chaos and noise, was starting to feel like the one place I could breathe.

Sliding into the car, I adjusted my glasses again, still getting used to how they felt perched on my nose. Zino and Karsten were already inside, with Karsten behind the wheel.

“Nice glasses,” Zino teased, glancing back at me with a grin.

“Thanks,” I replied dryly, rolling my eyes but unable to hide the small smile that tugged at my lips.

“You look smart now,” Karsten added, smirking as he backed the car out of the driveway.

I snorted. “I’ve always been smart.”

The ride was quiet after that, the hum of the engine filling the space. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either.

I could still feel the weight of yesterday lingering between us—my sudden collapse, Kingston stepping in, the hospital trip.

It wasn’t until we turned onto the road leading to campus that Karsten broke the silence. “So, ready for day two?”

I stared out the window, watching the familiar buildings flash by. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You’ll be fine,” Zino said confidently. “And don’t forget, we’re just a call away if you need us. Nobody’s gonna mess with you.”

“Got it,” I said, appreciating their words even if I wasn’t ready to fully let go of my frustration.

When we pulled into the school parking lot, I grabbed my bag and slipped out of the car, the nerves in my stomach twisting slightly. I adjusted my glasses again, trying to focus on the here and now.

“Have fun,” Zino called after me.

I waved without looking back, making my way toward the entrance.

The usual bustle of students filled the air, and for a moment, I felt overwhelmed by the sheer noise and energy.

But then I spotted Nia leaning against a wall near the main doors, her purple hair catching the sunlight, and my nerves eased.

“Snow!” she called out, waving me over.

I smiled, quickening my pace. “Hey!”

“Look at you with the glasses,” she teased, pretending to adjust invisible frames on her own face. “You look sophisticated now.”

“Don’t start,” I said, laughing softly.

“Too late,” she replied with a wink. “Come on, let’s find Troy before he disappears into one of his brooding corners.”

I followed her through the crowd, feeling a surprising sense of comfort in her presence. It wasn’t something I’d expected to find here, but it felt nice—like I was starting to belong.

As we walked into the cafeteria, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, glancing at the screen.

A message from Dimitrios: Hope you’re doing okay. Let us know if you need anything.

I stared at it for a moment before slipping the phone back into my pocket.

The gesture was nice, but it didn’t erase how I felt about yesterday. They hadn’t been there when it mattered, and it was going to take more than a text to fix that.

“Earth to Snow,” Nia said, snapping her fingers in front of my face.

“Sorry,” I said quickly.

She gave me a curious look but didn’t push. Instead, she nodded toward a table near the back, where Troy was sitting with his earbuds in. “There’s our guy.”

I couldn’t help but smile as we made our way over. Despite everything, I felt a flicker of excitement for the day ahead.