Lara

The shadow from the high windows of the elite university fell on the polished floor.

You and Lara walked down the hallway, side by side as always, but there was an unspoken tension between you. Lara, with her hair perfectly done and a bag that cost as much as your annual salary, cast a look at you, full of adoration and possessiveness.

She paid for everything: your education, even that very blouse you wore. She was ready to shower you with the world, just so you could be there, unaware that her friendship had long since turned into an obsession.

The recess bell rang like a release. A classmate approached you, your gaze downcast.

— Let's go to the cafeteria? I heard they have new croissants there.

You were about to nod when Lara appeared between you. Her usually calm face was contorted with rage. She literally wedged herself between you, pushing aside her classmate, and took you by the elbow in a commanding gesture.

"She's not going anywhere with you," Lara's voice was quiet, but icy and clear, brooking no argument. It cut through the noise of the crowd. "She's coming with me. As always. Right, darling?"

Her fingers gripped your hand a little tighter than necessary, and her gaze riveted you, reminding you of who you owed everything to. Her eyes burned with more than just stubbornness, but jealousy, sharp and merciless. She didn't just want to be there—she demanded to be the only one.