Chapter 9

Tori's POV:

I pushed the door open to find Mrs. Blake standing behind her desk, her face flushed with anger, while Catherine White stood with her arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin line.

Both women froze when they saw me.

Mrs. Blake recovered first, her expression quickly shifting from surprise to concern. "Tori! I didn't expect to see you today."

Catherine gave me a contemptuous once-over, her nostrils flaring slightly as if she'd caught an unpleasant scent. Without another word, she brushed past me, her shoulder deliberately bumping mine as she exited.

After she left, Mrs. Blake's shoulders sagged. "How much of that did you hear?" she asked softly.

"Enough," I admitted.

"Please don't take her words to heart," she said, gesturing for me to sit down. "Some people here... they have very rigid views about social hierarchy."

I shook my head, my voice steadier than I expected. "It's fine, Ms. Blake. I've heard worse."

"Thank you for accepting me into your class," I said quietly.

Mrs. Blake's eyes softened. "What happened in the past should stay in the past. It's time to look forward now."

I reached into my pocket and carefully pulled out the moonstone. "I wanted to return this to you."

Mrs. Blake smiled as I placed the smooth, luminescent stone in her palm. "Tori, you don't need to return this. "

"I can't accept that," I said firmly. "It's too valuable. " I hesitated before adding, "But I appreciate your kindness more than I can say."

She looked like she wanted to protest further, but must have seen the determination in my eyes. With a small nod, she closed her fingers around the moonstone.

"Speaking of my situation," I continued, "you mentioned Moonridge offers free dormitory accommodations for students. Would it be possible for me to apply?" I kept my voice steady, not wanting to reveal my emotion.

Mrs. Blake's expression softened with understanding. "Absolutely. We have several vacancies in the girls' dormitory right now. The facilities are basic but clean." She reached for a drawer in her desk. "I can help you with the paperwork now, if that works for you."

Relief washed over me. "That would be great. Thank you."

"Don't mention it," she said warmly.

The paperwork took less than twenty minutes to complete. By that evening, I was approved for immediate occupancy in Moonridge's east campus dormitory. Moving out was even simpler than getting approved—I had so few possessions that everything fit into my single backpack.

When I informed Hannah of my decision to move to the school dormitory, her only response was a dismissive wave of her hand and a muttered, "Less trouble for everyone." Not a single question about why I was leaving or if I would be safe. Not that I expected anything different.

I entered the classroom earlier than usual the next morning.

The hallways of Moonridge High were quieter at this hour, with only a few students milling about, most of them keeping their distance when they noticed me.

Mrs. Blake had worked hard to keep my history confidential - only the teachers and administration knew about my detention. But students still saw me as an oddity: a 21-year-old Omega trying to finish high school with teenagers. The whispers followed me everywhere.

As I made my way to my seat in the back corner of the classroom, I froze mid-step. Something was different.

My isolated desk, purposely separated from others as if my status were a communicable disease, was no longer alone. The empty desk beside mine now had textbooks stacked neatly on its surface, a pink backpack hanging from the chair.

I glanced around the empty classroom, confusion washing over me.

Mrs. Blake had arranged this isolated seating on my first day, not out of cruelty but practicality. After several students had loudly protested about sitting next to an "overage Omega," she'd quietly moved me to the back corner, creating a buffer of empty space that seemed to satisfy everyone.

"It's temporary," she'd assured me with an apologetic smile. "Just until things settle down."

No one wanted to sit next to the "misfit Omega." But now someone had invaded that empty space.

Who would willingly choose to sit next to us? Tracy, my wolf, stirred with curiosity.

I shrugged it off. Probably just someone's idea of a prank—leave their things here, then make a big scene about not wanting to sit with me after all.

Settling into my seat, I pulled out my notebook and began reviewing yesterday's lunar phase calculations. The classroom gradually filled with students, their voices dropping to whispers whenever they glanced my way. I kept my head down, pretending not to notice.

"Well, look who's still here," a sneering voice interrupted my concentration. "The old Omega didn't drop out after all."

I looked up to find a malicious girl standing before my desk, flanked by two other girls.

"I don't know why they let someone your age back in with normal students," she continued, looking me up and down with distaste. "Shouldn't you be in adult education or something? Four years is a long time to be away from school."

I remained silent, which only seemed to irritate her more.

"Hey!" she snapped, leaning closer. "I'm talking to you, Omega."

"She's clearly not interested in whatever you're saying," came a clear voice from behind them. "So maybe take the hint?"

The three girls turned to see who had dared to interrupt.

A petite girl with curly brown hair and bright eyes pushed past them, carrying a stack of books and wearing a smile that seemed completely out of place in this tense situation.

"Who asked you?" That girl snapped.

"Nobody," the girl replied, still smiling. "Just like nobody asked for your opinion on who belongs where."

The girl's face flushed with anger. "Are you sure you want to make an enemy of me?"

"Lily," one of her friends whispered urgently, tugging at her sleeve. "Don't forget she's Principal Walker's niece."

Lily froze but quickly recovered, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Whatever. She's not worth our time anyway." With a final glare in my direction, she and her friends retreated to their seats across the classroom.

The curly-haired girl turned to me with a bright smile, as if the confrontation had never happened.

"Hey! I'm Morgan Baker," she said, extending her hand.