CHAPTER 1: The Slap Before the Bell

The art classroom went silent before anyone understood why.
Hana Miller stood beside the long center table, clutching a torn sketch page against her white cardigan. Loose paper covered the desks. Brushes rolled near a watercolor palette. The fluorescent lights made every stunned face look pale.
Whitney Vale stepped too close in her champagne satin dress, her blonde hair perfect, her smile cruel enough to make the room shrink.
Then she slapped Hana once across the cheek.
The sound was sharp, small, and terrible.
Hana turned from the impact, tears rising fast, but her fingers never released the damaged drawing.
Whitney lifted her chin as if she had done something noble.
“Maybe next time, don’t steal someone else’s work.”
No one moved.
Mason stood near the lockers with his hands half raised, too shocked to speak. Other students stared at Hana, then at Whitney, then at the torn blue-stained corner of the sketch in Hana’s hands.
Hana touched her cheek.
She looked wounded.
But she did not look guilty.