The moment Zein entered the campus, something shifted—not physically, but atmospherically, like the air itself had become aware of her presence.
Students moved across the grounds in small groups, their conversations quiet but sharp, their laughter forced, and their eyes… far too observant.
Every step Zein took seemed to echo louder than it should have, drawing attention she didn't ask for but didn't avoid either.
She could feel them watching her, measuring her, deciding something silently, and yet she gave them nothing—no reaction, no discomfort, no sign that their presence affected her in any way.
"She's new."
"Looks weak."
"Won't last the night."
The whispers reached her ears, but she didn't respond.
She simply kept walking, her posture straight, her face calm, her gaze distant, as if none of this mattered—because in truth, it didn't. She had seen worse. Lived worse.
And if this place thought it could break her—
It was wrong.