Zara’s POV
The whispers never seemed to end. By the time I made it through the cafeteria, everyone’s eyes followed me like I was walking with a spotlight on my head. Stares that once carried disgust or curiosity now flickered with something worse—fear. And it wasn’t even because of me this time.
It was because of him.
Zarek sat at our usual table, sprawled in his chair like he owned the place, a stupid grin plastered across his face, laughing to himself like the entire school was a bad joke only he understood. People gave him a wide berth, like his laughter carried something dangerous, contagious. And maybe it did.
I hesitated for a second, then crossed over and dropped into the chair opposite him. “Okay,” I said, folding my arms. “Spill. What’s going on with you?”
He tilted his head,
