Trapped by Seven Mafia Wolves novel Chapter 78

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**TITLE: Stars Refuse To Blink by Asa River Knox**

**Aurora’s POV**

The hallway buzzes with hushed voices and muffled laughter, a cacophony that feels like a distant storm in my ears. My chin hangs low, weighed down by an invisible burden. My heart races, pounding so loudly it drowns out everything around me, a relentless drumbeat echoing in my chest. I can’t shake the image of Savina from the bathroom—her fierce determination to stand up against them, only to back down. Talia and her crew are nowhere to be seen now, likely off reveling in the chaos they created, but the venomous words they hurled at me linger, burrowing under my skin like shards of glass, sharp and relentless.

My hands tremble as I grip my books tightly, pressing them against my chest as if they could shield me from the world. Each step toward the classroom feels like wading through thick mud, every inch a battle against the weight of dread. What if someone laughs again? What if their eyes bore into me, full of judgment? What if I can’t hold back the tears this time?

As the classroom door swings open, a hush falls over the room, and I can feel the cold, piercing gazes directed at me—curious, indifferent, and utterly devoid of warmth. All I want is to vanish, to sink into the floor and disappear from their sight.

But instead, I force my legs to move, sliding into the seat by the window, attempting to shrink into myself, to become as small as possible.

The teacher’s voice washes over me, a distant sound that fails to penetrate the fog of my thoughts. My skin still burns where she struck me, a painful reminder of my vulnerability. My throat constricts, and I swallow hard, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over. I dread the possibility of someone asking if I’m okay; I can’t bear the thought of having to answer. How could I possibly admit that I’m terrified? The mere idea of facing them again twists my stomach into knots.

Lunchtime is even more daunting. The cafeteria buzzes with energy, filled with laughter and chatter, yet I feel as though I’m shrinking, becoming invisible, frozen in fear. Groups of students gather, their voices rising in joyful abandon—the death squad, their smirks cutting through the air like knives. I hesitate to approach my friends, afraid that my weakness will repel them. What if they no longer want to be associated with me after everything that happened?