The Rejected True Heiress (Liora) novel Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Liora

Paper hit the side of my head with a satisfying thwack.

I simply raised the book a little higher above my skull, like a makeshift shield against flying insults and

cafeteria napkins. Mia walked beside me, her jaw clenched, her eyes already scanning the hallway like she might chuck a binder at someone.

“Don’t,” I said, my tone flat.

“They’re throwing things at you,” she hissed.

“Yes,” I murmured, tilting my head. “I’m aware. I am, in fact, the person being pelted.”

Another paper missile zoomed by, this one barely grazing my shoulder before hitting a locker with a metallic

ping.

Mia’s hands curled into fists, and I didn’t even need to look to know she was mentally lining up her targets like a sniper preparing for war.

“Seriously, Liora, you came home yesterday soaking wet and smelling like sewage. And now this? It seems

worse today.”

“Worse?” I echoed, lifting the book higher over my head. “No, I’m still dry. But I’ll give you this, it’s getting boring. Paper? Really? At least throw something that shows a little commitment. Glitter bombs. A pie. Rotten

tomatoes. Something with artistic flair.”

Mia gave me that look, the one that said she was teetering between sympathy and the urge to shake me by the

shoulders.

“Normally, I wouldn’t suggest this, but… don’t you think it’s time we get help?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Help? From who?”

“Maybe… Callum?” she offered hesitantly.

I stopped walking so abruptly she nearly bumped into me, then took two fast steps to get ahead of her.

“Hey!” she jogged to catch up. “All I’m saying is–he’s student council president! An Alpha heir! He has sway

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over people. Over the students. He could help.”

Oh, he had sway, alright. Just not in the way she thought.

It quietly burned to think about it. That he wasn’t the solution. He was the one who started this.

Allegedly.

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The hallway stretched ahead like a gauntlet, each step a reminder that apparently, my presence was now considered a threat to society. My locker had been ripped open at some point between third and fourth period, my books were still drying from their impromptu bath in the courtyard fountain, and I’d been treated to the unique experience of watching a teacher “accidentally” erase my name off the graded assignment board with a

smile.

Sure, I was used to being bullied, but not like this.

Usually, there was a clear target. Someone I could argue with, outwit, maybe even punch if it came to it. But

this?

This was different.

It wasn’t one person. It was the entire environment.

And when the whole system turns on you, war rules say you wait it out. Let the tide shift. Wait for your shot.

Still…knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.

All this… because I thought Callum and I were, maybe, something.

Not something something. Just… something.

I know how that sounds. Silly. Especially now. And even after everything, it still doesn’t feel right to hate him.

Even if I should.

I never expected love letters or grand declarations. I’m not that naive.

But I thought we’d crossed some kind of line, left behind the enemy thing and, if only slightly, veered toward

something like… understanding.

Apparently, I was wrong.

I shook my head. All this over an assumption.

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If I could just find him, talk to him, figure out what actually happened–maybe all this spiraling would be for

nothing.

I mean… I’m not even sure it was him. But finding him? Yeah. That was turning out to be harder than I thought.

Because now he was gone. Not absent, just… invisible. Not at lunch. Not at his usual student council throne. Not even in the training yard, where he usually basked in his sense of superiority like a sunbathing lion.

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Chapter 44

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Chapter 44