The entrance to the exam hall was bustled with anxious energy, students clustering in small groups, hunched over last-minute notes or muttering formulas to themselves.

Ningning stood off to the side, leaning against the cold stone wall with her notes in hand, though she could hardly bring herself to focus. Her gaze kept flicking from her notes to the entrance, her stomach twisting a bit tighter each time she looked up and didn't see Winter.

She glanced at her phone screen. An hour left until the exam started, and Winter was still nowhere in sight. Ningning had already tried calling her twice, the empty rings only making her more anxious. They all usually showed up early to mentally prepare, go over any last details, but today-nothing.

As the minutes ticked by, Ningning felt herself growing increasingly uneasy. She began bouncing her leg, chewing her lip and staring at the main gate like Winter might suddenly appear if she focused hard enough.

With each minute that passed, her worry deepened, until she couldn't take it anymore. She quickly scrolled through her contacts and dialed Senior Karina.

The phone rang, and rang, until it cut to voicemail. Ningning sighed, frustrated but understanding-Karina had her own college exams and was probably already inside the hall. She pressed her hand to her forehead, trying to calm herself.

She couldn't panic now, but the thought of Winter missing this exam gnawed at her. Winter had worked so hard; this was too important to miss.

With a resigned sigh, she scrolled through her phone again and dialed Giselle. The phone rang a few times before Giselle picked up, sounding slightly groggy, as if she still hadn't woke up yet.

"Don't you have exams today?" Giselle asked, her voice laced with sleepiness and confusion.

"I have, Senior Giselle, but I'm so sorry," Ningning blurted, barely able to contain her worry.

"Winter hasn't shown up, and I've been trying to call her. She's not picking up. I thought maybe... could you check on her?"

Giselle's tone shifted instantly, a sharp alertness replacing the drowsiness.

"She's not there yet? And she's not answering her phone?"

Ningning could hear her footsteps quicken, followed by the faint sound of rustling, like she was grabbing her keys.

Ningning let out a shaky breath, guilt twisting through her.

"Yeah, I'm sorry if you're busy, but I just... I don't know, I feel like something's wrong."

"Don't worry," Giselle reassured her, her voice steadier now, though Ningning could hear the edge of worry underneath.

"I'll check on her. You focus on your own exam, alright?"

Relief washed over Ningning, though the tightness in her chest didn't fully go away. She heard Giselle mutter something under her breath, followed by the sound of a car door opening and the revving of an engine before the call abruptly cut off.

Taking a deep breath, Ningning put her phone back in her pocket, her gaze returning to her notes. She tried to focus on the words, to force herself to concentrate, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Winter.

She couldn't shake the unsettling feeling, the fear that something had gone wrong. Winter had been looking forward to this exam for weeks. She'd been dedicated, staying up late, waking up early, every day preparing.

Ningning took one last look at the entrance, swallowing her worry and forcing her attention back to her notes, determined to focus.

_

Giselle's heart hammered against her chest as she slammed on the brakes, her SUV jerking to a halt in front of Winter's house. She barely had time to undo her seatbelt, fumbling with the latch, before she rushed out, her shoes crunching against the gravel as she hurried toward the entrance.

The house loomed quiet and still, an unsettling silence settling over the yard that set her nerves on edge, still in the morning light. She pushed open the gate, her pace quickening as dread pooled in her stomach.

As she approached the front door, her breath hitched at the unnerving stillness inside. Not a sound, not a movement-just a thick, stifling silence that weighed down on her, feeling almost unnatural. Her fingers hovered over the doorknob, debating whether to knock, when a faint, muffled sound caught her attention.

She looked down, noticing shards of glass scattered on the floor, glinting under the dim light like tiny knives. Her brow furrowed, a deep frown settling on her face, and her gaze slowly lifted toward the source of the sound-a low, pained groan, barely audible.

An uneasy chill crept over her as she gripped the doorknob, twisting it slowly. The door creaked open, and she stepped inside, only to freeze at the sight before her.

Winter was there, but not the Winter she knew.

In her school uniform, Winter stood in the center of the trashed living room, her chest heaving, beads of sweat tracing down her temples. Her short hair, usually neat and tied back, hung loose and tangled, strands sticking to her tear-streaked face.

Her eyes were wild and blazing, a mixture of raw pain and fury darkening her gaze as she pressed her bloodied knuckles against her father's neck, pinning him to the wall.

Her lips were swollen and split, a thin trickle of blood tracing down her chin, but she didn't seem to notice, or care. She only pressed harder, her fingers digging into his skin with a fierce determination.

Her father, slumped against the wall, seemed barely conscious, though a twisted grin spread across his bruised and bloody face. His nose was crooked, a dark crimson rivulet trailing down his cheek, staining the collar of his shirt.

One of his hands was wrapped around Winter's throat, fingers pressing into her skin hard enough to leave marks, while the other tangled in her hair, pulling harshly.

The two of them were locked in a brutal stalemate, each one gritting their teeth, their labored breaths filling the air with a suffocating tension.

The living room was a chaotic wreck-furniture overturned, picture frames shattered, and thin streaks of blood staining the floor. Giselle could feel her pulse pounding in her ears, her throat tightening as her gaze flickered over the scattered remains of the struggle. She tried to move, to say something, but her body felt locked in place, frozen by the raw, unfiltered violence unfolding before her eyes.

For a moment, she could do nothing but watch, rooted to the spot. Winter's hand shook as she pressed harder against her father's throat, her knuckles white, skin split and raw.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, each one sharper than the last, her eyes glossed with unshed tears that seemed to burn against her cheeks.

Despite the fear, the anger, and the pain radiating off her in waves, there was a fierceness in her gaze, a defiance that wouldn't break, no matter how much her father resisted.

Giselle's voice caught in her throat as she took a shaky step forward, forcing herself to act.