Hailey's pov
Monday morning came too fast. My ankle was still tender, but the brace helped, and I refused to let the weekend’s chaos keep me hiding at home. Roy drove me to school, his hand on my thigh the whole way, Ryan texting from an early “business” meeting that he’d catch up later.
I limped to my locker, ignoring the stares and whispers that followed me like smoke. The photo scandal had died down a little—my savage comeback video had shifted the narrative—but people still watched.
When I opened the locker door, a burst of color tumbled out.
Roses. Dozens of perfect, velvety red roses, tied with a silk ribbon that felt like liquid against my fingers. No card. No note. Just the flowers, their scent thick and intoxicating—sweet nectar mixed with that deep, earthy rose perfume that
