Iva made one decision with absolute clarity: she would use the school library computers to the maximum.
She could not—would not—risk using the one at home.
Her father was too connected, too respected, too feared. If she so much as typed a suspicious sentence, and especially after her escape, she was certain he would ask the pack’s IT division to track her searches, to comb through erased histories, cached data, anything that could betray her intentions.
Better safe than sorry.
Yet safety, she quickly learned, was becoming harder to find.
Ella and her group had grown bolder, sharper, more vicious with every passing hour. Whispered insults followed Iva through the halls. Laughter erupted too loudly when she passed. A shoulder “accidentally” slammed into hers between classes. A crude co
