Don't bring that loud black attitude into my school. You people need to learn your place. Evan's voice sliced through the courtyard as he stood beside his father, Officer Lorn, who was already yanking Maya's wrists into the cuffs. Make it tighter, Dad. She needs to feel it.
Evan smirked. The officer shoved her forward, forcing her to stumble while students backed away, unsure whether to watch or flee. Troublemakers like you don't belong here," he muttered, gripping her shoulder with practiced force. Maya's blue hoodie shook with each breath, but her resolve stayed unbroken. Evan had no idea he was threatening the daughter of the one judge who could end his family's power with a single ruling.
Through Brookwood High's glass doors, morning sunlight streamed into the main hallway. Maya Kingsley took a deep breath, adjusting the strap of her leather messenger bag as she studied the crisp schedule in her hands. The corridor buzzed with typical high school energy. Lockers clanging, sneakers squeaking on polished floors, voices echoing off beige walls covered in college prep posters and sports team photos. She felt the stairs immediately.
Curious glances darted her way as students huddled in their usual groups, whispering behind cupped hands. Maya kept her chin up, her stride purposeful. She'd been the new girl before. This was just another school, another fresh start. The schedule showed her first class was AP literature in room 237.
The hallway curved left toward the academic wing. Maya checked the room numbers as she walked. 231 233 235. She was so focused on finding her classroom that she didn't see him coming until it was too late. The impact was jarring, a deliberate shoulder check that sent Maya stumbling sideways.