Chapter 3

Northwood High buzzed with noise and bodies when I walked in, dressed in Olivia's clothes.

They felt wrong on me, too soft, too innocent.

But I was Olivia now.

It didn't take long.

Jessica spotted me by the lockers.

"Well, look who crawled back," she sneered.

She shoved a stack of books at me. "My homework. You know the drill."

Olivia used to do it, terrified of what would happen if she refused.

I let the books fall to the floor.

"Pick them up yourself," I said, my voice Olivia's, but the tone all mine.

Jessica's eyes widened.

She tried to trip me as I walked past.

I sidestepped, grabbed her arm, and twisted. Not hard, but enough.

She yelped, stumbling back.

Students stared. This wasn't the Olivia they knew.

I found Olivia's locker.

"Slut" was scrawled across it in permanent marker. "Freak." "Crybaby."

I opened it. Trash spilled out – rotten food, sticky soda, crumpled notes with more insults.

Her desk in first period was the same, filled with garbage.

A wave of cold fury washed through me.

This was her daily reality.

This was what they did to my sweet sister.

I cleaned it out, my movements precise, controlled.

The other students watched, whispering.

Let them.

They were about to see a very different Olivia Peterson.