Act I: The Sound of the Tray
The cafeteria at Redwood Academy was never quiet.
There was always the scrape of chairs, the sharp pop of juice cartons opening, the noise of a hundred conversations stacking on top of each other until the whole room sounded like it was vibrating. If you stood near the serving line long enough, you learned how to separate it all—the laughter, the whispers, the fake confidence, the real fear.
And underneath all of it, there was one rule everyone understood without ever saying it out loud.
If Alex Kane was in the room, stay out of his way.
I had only been at Redwood for nine days when I learned that rule for myself. That was apparently all the time Alex needed to decide what kind of person I was.
The new kid.
The scholarship case.
The boy with no father.
