That evening, after the final bell rang, Nova slung her backpack over her shoulder and walked out of the school gates.
Not far away, Sylvie waved at her enthusiastically, flanked by a few of the meaner girls from their class.
Nova had zero interest in dealing with them, but Sylvie ran straight up to her and asked, "Nova, are you waiting for someone to pick you up too?"
"Nova, don't you usually walk home?"
"Yeah, Nova, who's picking you up today? Are they bringing a scooter or a bicycle?"
The mockery from her classmates was loud and piercing.
At this school, the social hierarchy was brutal.
In her past life, Nova's sudden weight gain had tanked her self-esteem. She had insisted on walking to and from school every single day, hoping the exercise would help her slim down. It never did, but it successfully convinced everyone that she was dirt poor. A rumor eventually spread that she was Caleb's distant, destitute relative from the countryside, only allowed into Lindenwood Preparatory Academy because of the Langdon family's charity.
Because of that lie, right up until graduation, nobody at school had any idea she was actually the sole heiress of The Donald Group.
"You guys shouldn't say things like that. Nova might not have a lot of money, but we shouldn't make fun of her for it."
Sylvie affectionately linked her arm through Nova's and smiled. "Nova, why don't you ride with me today? I'll have my driver drop you off at home."
Nova frowned and yanked her arm back. "No thanks. My family has a car."
Nova knew exactly what Sylvie was playing at. She wanted to use the ride to find out where Nova lived and, more importantly, to show off her supposed luxury car to the rest of the school.
"Stop bragging, Nova. If your family actually owned a car, why on earth would you walk every day?"
"Exactly! Sylvie's car is a Porsche. You probably won't get to sit in one for the rest of your life. Stop being so ungrateful."
The other girls sneered, their faces full of absolute disdain.


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