"Dear Diary,

Today is another day, and the nerves are still the way they were days go, gnawing at me like every other day since I moved to Bostwood. Pretending to be Paris Vurton—it's been... more than I ever imagined. Every day feels like a tightrope walk, and though I try to convince myself I'll make it across, there's always that fear of slipping, of falling. I'm hopeful, though—hopeful that I'll make it through today, just like I did yesterday, and the day before. But deep down, I'm scared.

I keep telling myself to just stick to the script, but it's not that simple when you're stepping into someone else's life, especially when that life is so far from anything you've ever known. I've been dodging people, places—everything that reminds me I'm living a lie—because I wouldn't even know how to act around them. I don't really know the kind of person Paris Vutron was, and even if I did, I'm not sure I could ever truly become her. How do you become someone you've never even truly met?

Her friends—they've been so welcoming, they seem to care about her a great deal. They notice the changes but pretend like they don't care about them. But my worry grows even worse now the holidays are over. The real world is calling, and I'm terrified because today, I have to be her all day, every minute, every second, at the Royal Academy. I have to fool all of them again.

But beneath all this fear, there's a flicker of excitement. It's there, like a tiny flame that refuses to be snuffed out. I get to go to school again, to be around all those people I've only ever seen on TV—rich, powerful, untouchable. And now, I'm one of them, at least in their eyes. How surreal is that? to walk their halls, sit in their classes, be part of their world.

I just hope... I pray... I can get through today without slipping, without anyone noticing the cracks in this façade.

So here's to the beginning of a new life—a good life, a better life. Or so I hope."

Anne-Marie's breath caught in her throat as the bell rang, drawing her back to reality. She stood frozen, her eyes wide with wonder as she stared at the enormous building before her. She had seen images of the Royal Academy on television, but standing here, seeing it in person, was a different experience entirely. The meticulously manicured lawns, the grand statues of the royal family, the majestic fountain featuring the king with a bow—it was all so overwhelming, so unreal. The buildings, tall and imposing, were lined up in a perfect arc, exuding an air of orderliness and elegance. Everything about this place screamed royalty and wealth. It was as if she had stepped into another world.

Her gaze drifted to the flags fluttering proudly in the breeze—the flag of Breton standing tall beside the flag of the Royal Academy. The colors—yellow, magenta, cyan, and black—blended together in a striking mix that only added to the school's grandeur. She couldn't help but admire the students as they walked in, their shoulders squared, exuding confidence. The girls in their short black skirts, the boys in their neatly pressed pants, all wearing white shirts, black blazers, and ties—they looked like they had stepped straight out of a magazine. Even Anne-Marie felt like a doll, perfectly dressed in the same uniform, though her nerves betrayed the composed exterior.

She drew in a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside her. Turning around, she noticed the steady stream of luxury cars pulling into the compound. Each one was more expensive than the last, the kind of cars she had only seen in her wildest dreams. Yet here they were, not just in front of her eyes but parked around her, a testament to how drastically her life had changed overnight.

A small smile tugged at her lips when she saw Aubrey step out of a sleek black Rolls-Royce, her hair catching the morning light. Moments later, Noa emerged from a pristine white one. Relief washed over Anne-Marie as she saw their familiar faces. Finally, people she recognized. Spending the past week with Aubrey and Noa had been a crash course in Paris's life, but it was comforting to have them by her side. They were fun, vibrant, and made everything feel a little less intimidating. She felt a pang of regret that she hadn't known them better before the accident—Paris had been lucky to have friends like these.

"Good morning!" Aubrey's voice rang out in a high, excited pitch as she wrapped her arm around Anne-Marie's. Anne-Marie couldn't help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. The sweet scent of Aubrey's perfume filled the air—everything about these girls was polished and perfect, and Anne-Marie was doing her best to fit in.

"Someone looks like she had a great sleep last night," Noa remarked, barely looking up from her phone.

Aubrey scoffed.

"I wish I did. I barely slept—I was just too excited about today." She came to an abrupt stop, causing the other two to halt as well.

Anne-Marie turned to her, watching as she took a deep breath, clearly savoring the moment.

"Do you guys smell that?" Aubrey asked, her eyes bright with a sense of drama that only she could pull off.

Noa rolled her eyes, her voice barely a whisper.
"Here we go again."

Anne-Marie's smile grew as she watched Aubrey, amused by her theatrics. Aubrey closed her eyes and sniffed the air a few more times before exhaling in satisfaction.

"The smell of a new academic year," Aubrey declared, her eyes sparkling. "I love it. I just feel like this is going to be our year."

"You said that last year, Bre," Noa reminded her, a teasing note in her voice.

Aubrey was unfazed.

"I mean it this time. Paris woke up finally, plus, we're seniors now—if that's not a sign, I don't know what is. I prayed for this moment every holiday, and now it's here. I'm going to shine so bright today, tomorrow, and every day after that." She chuckled, squeezing Anne-Marie's arm affectionately.

"You got here quite early," Noa observed, finally looking up from her phone as she turned to Anne-Marie. "You must be excited too. Are you sure you're ready?"

Anne-Marie took a deep breath, trying to hide her anxiety beneath a confident smile. She nodded.

"I'm fine, really. I appreciate your concern, but I'm ready. I'd have to face everyone eventually—why not start today?"

Aubrey exhaled, clearly relieved by her response.

"Wow," she said softly, almost to herself.

"We almost forgot how brave you are," Noa added, causing Anne-Marie to turn to her. "How prepared you are for everything."

"I wish I had your courage," Aubrey murmured, her tone wistful. "Maybe then I wouldn't be so shy around Asher all the time."

Aubrey's face fell as she remembered how Paris usually reacted to mentions of Asher. She let out a nervous chuckle and quickly raised her head to meet Anne-Marie's eyes.

"I'm sorry I even brought it up."

Anne-Marie frowned slightly.

"What are you sorry for?"

"I just..." Aubrey shrugged, looking down at her hands. "I forgot how much it irritated you when I talked about Asher like that."

"I'm not irritated," Anne-Marie reassured her, trying to keep her voice light.

Aubrey's eyes widened in surprise.

"Huh?"

Before she could say more, Noa chimed in, her voice laced with subtle curiosity.

"Well, I talked to Harry a few days ago, and he doesn't think the prince is upset with you. He understands you were just... surprised." Noa glanced at Anne-Marie, referring to the incident at the hospital when Aubrey had acted out of character.

Anne-Marie nodded, not fully understanding the gravity of what had happened but feeling the need to respond.

"And Aubrey," Noa continued, her tone more serious now, "It's a new year, a new season. You can't keep running around in circles about your feelings for Asher. Life's too short. Look at what happened to Paris—you have to take the chance and tell him how you really feel. You'll never know if he feels the same way unless you do."

Anne-Marie noticed that Aubrey had stopped walking.

"But you can help me."

She was standing a few paces behind them, her eyes fixed on Anne-Marie with an earnestness that caught her off guard.

"Me?" Anne-Marie asked, her voice uncertain.

Aubrey hesitated, clearly nervous.

"You can talk to him about it... ask him, maybe?"

Anne-Marie was taken aback. She scoffed lightly, trying to play it off as a joke, but there was a seriousness in Aubrey's eyes that made her realize this was no small request.

"You and Asher have been friends forever," Aubrey pleaded, her voice soft and almost desperate as she walked quickly to join them, still looking at Anne-Marie. "He listens to you, he talks to you. You're the only person who could find out if I actually stand a chance with him."

Noa sighed, clearly irritated.

"What are you doing, Aubrey? You know how Paris feels about this."

Anne-Marie's brows furrowed in confusion. Were Paris and Asher that close? How could she have missed that?

"Help me, Pee," Aubrey begged, clutching Anne-Marie's hands tightly. Her eyes were wide, full of hope and desperation. "Please."

Anne-Marie felt a wave of panic rise within her. How on earth was she supposed to handle this? What could she possibly say to Aubrey, who was looking at her like she held the key to her happiness? She wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn't come. Aubrey's pleading gaze only made it harder to speak. Just as Anne-Marie was about to respond, a loud scream cut through the air.

"Ahrgggg!"

Anne-Marie turned immediately, her heart racing as she saw students rushing out of the building, their movements frantic and chaotic. What on earth was happening?

The screeching sound of tires behind them made her spin around, and she watched in awe as a convoy of luxurious cars rolled into the large compound, forming an elegant arc in front of the building.

Aubrey scoffed softly, leaning closer to Anne-Marie.

"They're here," she whispered.

Anne-Marie's heart skipped a beat. She had an inkling of who was arriving, even though she pretended otherwise. She watched as men in sharp suits spilled out of the cars, scattering around the compound with military precision. Two of them hurried to the building, taking positions on either side of the door, while the others lined up in front of three of the seven cars.

The doors opened.

Harry was the first to step out, raking his hand through his perfectly styled hair. That was all it took to send the crowd into a frenzy. Screams erupted as students rushed toward the cars, their phones out, capturing every moment. Before that day, if anyone had asked her about Harry Fletcher, her answer was going to be short and simple; tall, pretty, and a part of the royal circle. All she knew about each of them had changed the past few days, a lot more than anyone would have guessed. Harry Fletcher wasn't only a part of the circle, or the adopted son of the Mayor of Champaraine, he was also the oldest, and richest of the group. It was said that before his father joined politics, he had inherited his family's wine business. The Fletchers were known to be the heart of Breton's winery. Their fine wine wasn't only one of the oldest in the country, but also one of the bests and most popular around the world and Harry was rumoured to be the inspiration behind it, he even had a label named after him; "Dew of Ace".

It was said that the Fletcher family business didn't always do well at one point. Some years ago, they had faced a lot of competition that had pushed them off the number one spot. A lot of Bretons complained about their wine being too consistent coupled with their family's drama over the years so when "Abel and Cane" came into the market with their product lines made from specific grape varieties, it didn't take long for the people to turn their attention to the competition.

This change however wasn't for long. A few years later, 'fletcher's Dew of Ace' was launched and it became the most popular and demanded taste in the whole country and had been that way ever since. Before her accident, Olivia and Benedict Fletcher in their many interviews, claimed that their son Harry Ace Fletcher was their inspiration for the taste and he received ten percent in royalties from every sale ever since, earning a minimum monthly income of two hundred and fifty seventy million dollars. Not only that, he also, just like all his other brothers, had four percent of the company shares, earning him a combined total of about four billion every year, making him one of the youngest billionaires in every world currency in the country and he wasn't shy of owning that title wherever he went, it didn't look like he was humble about it either with the way he looked from head to toe. Maybe if Paris also earned royalties from the Vutron family businesses, she might have been just as wealthy. Even after owning seven percent of shares in the family's business, she had to earn three times of what she currently did to measure up to Harry's worth.

The guards moved quickly, forming a barrier to keep the excited crowd at bay. Asher emerged from the next car, adjusting his jacket with a casual grace that only made him more attractive. Aubrey's hand slowly moved to her chest, feeling her heart race. How could anyone be so effortlessly perfect?

Asher Coleman seemed to be the perfect gentleman. 'Breton's sweetheart" as he was often popularly called by almost everyone. At least half the girls in Breton had had a crush on him once in their lifetime and being there looking at him at that moment, in real life, she could tell why. Unlike the Fletcher's the Coleman's involvement in Breton's politics were as old as time. They had, through many generations, taken up political positions in the King's court, with the most popular being the minister of war. Their influence in court had run so deep that at that point, the position might have as well been hereditary. Not only that, the Coleman's developed several housings in the imperial city. Their primary source of wealth came from their real estate empire which was started by Kennedy Coleman, Asher's great grand father. Being the son of the minister of war was no joke, and as expected, she had heard stories of how he was perfect in almost every combat skill there was. His personality was too interesting, and surprisingly, more interesting to everyone than his parentage. For a society that thrived on social class and family status, Asher managed pretty well in the imperial city for someone who was born as a result of an affair between the minister of war and his mistress, an affair that was rumoured to have caused the death of Bianca Coleman, the minster's first wife from suicide under the influence of alcohol. Unlike Harry, Asher didn't have any independent shares from his family's business but he benefited greatly from his family's wealth, influence and political connections. It was also said that his grandfather had left him an entire luxury apartment building in the heart of the imperial city under the management of the estate. It was said that the apartment alone, made him about five million dollars every year.

There were lots of rumours about how even though he remarried and even went ahead to have another son with Olivia Coleman, and one more on the way, Donald never got over his first wife, but that's what they all were, rumours, until everyone stopped caring at least. How could they when Olivia was the total opposite of what society would have expected her to be. She was beautiful, and kind, and always did all she could to give back to the society even with all the wealth and status she had amassed through her foundation, and just like her, Asher did his best to remain humble and a sweetheart even though he belonged to the most powerful clique in the country.

And then, the final car's door opened. The guards bowed their heads in perfect synchronisation as Aiden stepped out. The moment his foot touched the ground, it was as if the world stopped. Anne-Marie could feel the air shift, the collective intake of breath from the crowd as they stared at him in awe.

Aiden had that effect on people. Everywhere he went, he commanded attention, not just with his title but with his presence. Anne-Marie had seen it on TV, but again, witnessing it in person was something entirely different. There was an aura around him, something magnetic that drew everyone in, leaving them speechless and starstruck.

There was something about the three of them now that she thought about it. She couldn't help but wonder how they managed to become good friends when they had very separate individual personalities. They were nothing like each other, and their relationship was even more questionable with the identities and family backgrounds of each of them placed on the table.

Aiden was royalty, he belonged to the most powerful family in the country. His birth and origins had no questions compared to the other members of the circle so it was a wonder how Harry and Asher were even considered to be members of the circle with their history.

The crown's circle was one of the most important institutions in Breton, and throughout its history, every member of the prince's circle was carefully handpicked and selected by the King's council. They had to be from families that had all five of the five virtues of choice; power, dignity, legacy, loyalty, and integrity. The crown's circle was reserved only for the most prestigious bloodlines, and each member had to be a direct descendant, born within the sanctity of marriage so it was a wonder how Harry and Asher ever made the cut out of every other teenager in the Imperial city.

As expected, there were also rumours about this particular selection. Many talked about how the trio were already friends before the selection, and how the crown had used this to its advantage to distract the people from the uprising that had started to take place in small groups formed in towns across the country as a few supporters of William Castrophe, the adopted brother of King Vincent the third, the former King of Breton had started to declare their support a change in government in favor of his son, Leornald Castrophe.

They claimed that the selection had taken an unpredictable political turn, neglecting the virtues of choice and rather, taking a more pragmatic approach to win the hearts of the people who were already rooting for the admirable friendship of the trio since their early childhood, and also keep the minister of war on the side of the Ellingtons.

Anne-Marie scanned the crowd, watching as students—who themselves were the children of the wealthy and powerful—reacted as if they were in the presence of a greater power. They snapped pictures feverishly, their faces lit with excitement. Even Aubrey and Noa, usually so composed, were caught up in the moment.

At least Aiden and his friends were in uniform, blending in somewhat with the other students, even if their clothes looked custom-made and far more expensive. Aiden's black shirt stood out, a subtle defiance of the school's uniform code, but who would dare call him out on it?

His tiny gold diamond glinted under the sun from inside his shirt, drawing Anne-Marie's gaze. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine, a perfect blend of royalty and rebellion.

Noa let out a small, wry smile.

"Show-offs," she muttered, though there was a trace of admiration in her voice.

The three boys were like living exhibits in a museum—objects of fascination for everyone around them. The students stared, took pictures, whispered among themselves, unable to tear their eyes away from the royal trio.

Harry, ever the entertainer, unwrapped a lollipop and popped it into his mouth with a satisfied scoff.

"Looks like old habits don't die fast at all," he said, his tone light and teasing.

Asher smirked, turning his head slightly to address Harry. "We all know you enjoy the attention, Harry."

Harry's grin widened as he surveyed the crowd.

"Isn't this the best thing about being in school? It gets better every year. I don't think I can ever get used to this."

Asher and Harry both turned to Aiden, who had remained silent. "Your Highness?" they said in unison, offering him a slight bow.

Aiden exhaled, his eyes sweeping over the crowd with a mix of boredom and weariness. The noise, the attention—it was suffocating. He was tired of it all, tired of the routine, of being the center of attention every single day. Sometimes, he wished he could disappear, blend into the background like everyone else. But that was impossible, and he knew it. He was Aiden, the prince, the one everyone looked up to, even if he didn't want them to.

As his gaze drifted over the crowd, it landed on her—Anne-Marie. She was standing behind the others, watching him with a look of uncertainty in her eyes. How had he noticed her so easily, among all these faces? He never did that. But something about her was different, something that pulled his attention despite the chaos around them.

The walk was a commanding one as the boys made their way to the entrance, flanked by their royal guards. The crowd instinctively parted, creating a path for them, all eyes glued to the trio, especially with Aiden leading the group. Aubrey, holding her breath, gave Asher her full attention. Unlike the others, he wore a smirk on his face, a smile so captivating it was impossible to look away. His eyes met theirs, lingering for a moment, and the world seemed to slow down.

Anne-Marie felt her pulse quicken as they approached. She felt a jolt of panic as Aiden's eyes locked on hers. What was she supposed to do? Should she acknowledge him, or would that be out of character? She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her mind racing with a million thoughts. But before she could decide, Aiden looked away, his expression unreadable, as if the moment had never happened. The comments from the crowd around her became a blur.

"Oh my goodness, they're so handsome! I'm about to die of a heart attack."

"We love you, Prince Aiden!"

The admiration and excitement swirled around Anne-Marie, and she struggled to convince herself that this was normal, that she would have to get used to it. She took a step forward, thinking she might speak to Aiden as he drew nearer, but he walked past her like a cold breeze, his expression as impassive as ever. It was as if she didn't exist, and the realization hit her hard. She bit her tongue, forcing herself to stay composed, though a deep frown creased her brow. What had just happened?

Asher followed close behind, his face mirroring Aiden's stern demeanor. However, unlike Aiden, he at least acknowledged her with a quick glance as he passed. It was brief, but it was something. Harry, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. His face lit up with a broad smile as he approached them, clearly pleased to see them.

He looked at each of them in turn before his gaze settled on Anne-Marie.

"Looking good, Paris," he said, his grin widening. Then, with a playful glance at Noa, he added, "Especially you."

Noa rolled her eyes, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Bite me."

Harry chuckled, unphased.

"See you girls later." He slid his sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on with a flourish before strutting off to join the others.

As Aubrey and Noa turned to watch the boys disappear through the doors, Anne-Marie remained still, her mind racing to process everything that had just happened. The moment felt surreal, like she was watching a scene unfold from outside her own body.

The Royal squad continued to escort the trio down the vast, empty hallway leading to a long flight of stairs. Behind them, students formed a respectful arch, their gazes filled with awe as they watched the boys ascend.

Aiden halted at the base of the stairs, clearly frustrated by the relentless footsteps trailing behind him. The attention was suffocating, more than he could bear. With a weary exhale, he turned to the guards.

"You don't have to follow me up here," he instructed, his voice firm. "It's safe. Wait outside."

Elijah, the head of security, hesitated.

"Your Highness, the Queen gave us explicit instructions not to leave your side—"

"And I'm telling you to wait outside," Aiden cut him off, his tone sharp, leaving no room for negotiation. His jaw tightened, signaling his impatience.

After a moment of tension, Elijah relented, turning to the other guards.

"Take ten steps back," he ordered, his voice resigned. The guards immediately complied, retreating exactly ten steps away from the building.

Elijah's gaze returned to Aiden, a silent acknowledgment of defeat before he bowed. Satisfied, Aiden turned away, resuming his ascent up the stairs, with Asher and Harry following closely behind.

Meanwhile, Anne-Marie's thoughts were in turmoil. She had been thinking too much, overanalyzing every detail. It was time to focus on the present, to ground herself in what was happening around her. She turned slightly, intending to rejoin Aubrey and Noa, when suddenly someone bumped into her with force.

Before she could react, she felt the scalding heat of coffee splashing across her chest. The shock of the impact left her momentarily paralyzed, her mind struggling to register what had just happened.

The loud bump echoed throughout the hallway, silencing the whispers and gasps that had been filling the space. The girl who had spilled the coffee let out a terrified scream, drawing the attention of every student in the vicinity. All eyes shifted from the royal trio to the unfolding scene.

"Oh my goodness," the girl in glasses stammered, clutching the half-empty cup of coffee as if it were a lifeline. She was trembling visibly, her face drained of color as she stared at the mess she had caused.

Aiden and his friends froze, their expressions shifting from indifference to surprise as they turned to see what had happened. Harry was the first to speak, he lowered his sunglasses to his nose bridge, his tone filled with astonishment.

"Your Highness," he called to Aiden, his voice urgent.

Anne-Marie looked down at her ruined uniform, the reality of the situation sinking in. Her once pristine shirt was now soaked, the hot coffee seeping into her skin, leaving a trail down her legs and into her expensive Charles Venderoff black heels. She felt the sting of embarrassment, but she forced herself to stay calm.

"Paris!" Aubrey's voice rang out as she and Noa rushed to her side. They examined her with wide eyes, clearly shocked by the state of her uniform.

"I'm fine," Anne-Marie said, her voice steady despite the situation. She forced a smile, trying to reassure them. "I'm fine. It was just a mistake."

"A mistake?" Noa repeated, her irritation bubbling to the surface as she turned to the girl who was now trembling even more violently. "Are you blind?" she snapped. "Even with glasses on, how could you not see where you were going?"

"I'm so sorry!" The girl's voice was barely audible, shaking with fear as the whispers from the crowd grew louder.

"Isn't that the girl from the scholarship program?" someone whispered harshly.

"Did she just pour coffee on Paris Vurton? The Paris Vurton?" another student muttered.

"She completely ruined her outfit! Isn't that one of those designer uniforms? The limited edition?" another voice chimed in.

"She's obviously dead meat."

The murmurs weren't exactly hushed, and the girl heard every cruel word. Her eyes filled with tears as she quickly discarded the cup and dropped to her knees in front of Anne-Marie, desperately trying to clean the spilled coffee with her own skirt. The sight was shocking, embarrassing even, and it broke Anne-Marie's heart.

"Oh, please don't," Anne-Marie said softly, bending down to stop her. She could feel the girl's fear and humiliation, and it pained her to see someone so scared.

"I'm sorry," the girl kept repeating, her voice trembling as she continued trying to clean. "I'm sorry. I should have looked where I was going."

"You should have," Noa snapped, still seething with anger.

"It's okay," Anne-Marie interjected, her voice calm and soothing. She slowly reached for the girl's arms, pulling her up gently from the ground. The crowd watched in stunned silence, unable to believe what they were witnessing.

"I'm not hurt," Anne-Marie continued, her tone reassuring. "And besides, I should be the one apologizing. It was my fault—I bumped into you first."

Aubrey and Noa exchanged confused glances, their shock mirrored in their expressions. They couldn't believe what they were seeing.

The girl's tears continued to fall, her apology seemingly endless. "I'm so sorry," she whispered again, her voice filled with despair. She made another attempt to bend down, but Anne-Marie gently stopped her, holding her in place.

"Don't do that," Anne-Marie said, her voice firm but kind. "It might look clean, but it's not. It's dirty." She glanced down at her own shoes, the girl following her gaze.

Slowly, the girl raised her tear-filled eyes to meet Anne-Marie's, her expression a mix of fear and confusion. She had expected anger, maybe even punishment, but not this.

"I know you didn't mean to do it," Anne-Marie continued, her voice softening. "It was a mistake, and I'm fine. But you shouldn't put yourself out there like this for anyone. An apology is enough—a sincere apology. You shouldn't be at the mercy of anyone like this. Do you understand?"

Noa scoffed, her disbelief clear. "Paris, what has come over you?"

From a distance, Harry watched the scene unfold, his expression one of utter shock. He could barely process what was happening.

"Paris Vurton is sympathizing with lesser folks," he murmured to Asher. "I never thought I'd live to see this day. She always has new tricks up her sleeve."

Aiden's gaze remained fixed on Anne-Marie, his expression unreadable. He watched as Aubrey quickly reached for Anne-Marie's hand, pulling it away from the girl's.

"Oh my," Aubrey gasped as she turned Anne-Marie around, inspecting the damage to her shirt. "That must have been really hot. We should get you to the school's infirmary and have the nurse look at it," she said with concern.

"You'll need a change of clothes too," Noa added, her voice tinged with worry.

The three of them began to walk towards the opposite direction of the hallway, the crowd parting to let them pass. Anne-Marie tried to hide the discomfort, but anyone looking closely could see the redness spreading across her chest where the hot coffee had splashed. The pain was manageable, but the embarrassment and the unexpected attention were overwhelming.

Asher, who had been watching the entire scene unfold, quickly descended the stairs, brushing past the guards with determined strides. Concern was etched on his face as he hurried to catch up with them.

"Paris," he called out, his voice soft but filled with genuine worry. He reached her just as she turned slightly, catching his eye. "Are you okay?"

Anne-Marie looked up at him, forcing a smile onto her lips, trying to mask the turmoil of emotions inside her. She nodded, a gesture that was more reassuring for him than for herself. Seeing her nod, Asher let out a relieved sigh, though his eyes still searched her face for any sign of distress.

Aiden, who had remained silent throughout the ordeal, stood a few paces behind, his gaze unwavering as it lingered on Anne-Marie. There was something inscrutable in his expression, something that Anne-Marie couldn't quite place. He wasn't a man of many words, and she understood that. But the intensity of his stare made her uneasy, as if he was trying to see through the façade she was desperately trying to maintain.

"Come on, let's go," Aubrey urged, her voice gentle as she and Noa guided Anne-Marie away, their hands lightly supporting her as they moved down the hallway.