Alessia suddenly felt a strange tightness in her chest, but she kept her <bposure</b>, merely pressing her lips together. With a careless tilt of her mouth, she looked as <b>if </b>nothing in the world could faze her.


    “We’re family, after all,” she said lightly.


    Brendan didn’t reply. He just gave her shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze.


    With Ivan’s situation temporarily resolved, Zachary and Alessia finally stepped into their senior year of high school. Their school uniforms couldn’t have been more different–Zachary’s was neat and proper, while Alessia’s was sttered with bold streaks of paint, each brushstroke a testament to her vibrant personality.


    “Lessie, aren’t you going to wear your uniform?” Karen called from the kitchen, carrying a tray of breakfast, while Brendan had already left early to run his morning


    stall.


    After a couple of days of trial runs, Brendan was handling things smoothly on his own. So he and Karen had agreed: he’d manage the stall in the mornings, while she stayed home, joining himter in the afternoon to help with the after–school rush. The new routine eased Karen’s fatigue considerably.


    “Mom, it’s a tradition at Lessie’s school,” Zachary exined, trailing behind Karen as he set the table.


    Alessia grinned and spun around, proudly showing off her creation. “Yeah, the school gives us in shirts to design ourselves. On the first day, we all wear what we made. What do you think? Does it look good?”


    Her white T–shirt was streaked with spontaneous, wild colors–vivid blues and yellows, the texture of each brushstroke still visible. The whole shirt radiated a carefree, creative energy that made it impossible not to smile.


    Karen beamed with pride. “It’s beautiful, Lessie. You’re so talented.”


    After breakfast, the two set off for school amid Karen’s gentle reminders. Once they reached the main road, students in uniforms matching Zachary’s nced their way, whispering behind hands/curiosity and envy woven into their voices.


    The street was noisy–too much so to catch every word–so they ignored the stares and boarded the city bus, one after the other.


    “Why is a student from Crestview High hanging out with someone from the


    Academy?”


    <b>13:50 </b>


    “She rides the bus for love? That’s real dedication.”


    “Isn’t that Zachary? Who’s the girl with him? She’s gorgeous. Is she his girlfriend<b>?</b><b>” </b>


    “No way! Zachary’s the only thing getting me through the first day back.”


    “They don’t look like a couple. Honestly, they don’t even seem close.”


    “Why would a rich girl take the bus to school?”


    “I have to admit, I’m jealous. Look at their first daypare it to ours. The gap is


    unreal.”


    “Seriously. Who stole my privileged life?”


    The morning bus was packed mostly with Crestview High students, clustered in little groups. Some were curious, some unimpressed, others openly envious. Their voices were low, but in the hush of the bus, Alessia couldn’t help catching snippets,


    even if she tried to tune them out.


    She didn’t care, but Zachary clearly felt ufortable.


    “Maybe I should call you a cab from tomorrow,” he offered quietly.


    “Huh? Why? Are you secretly loaded?” Alessia fired back, rapid–fire, leaving him momentarily flustered.


    If Liam were here, he’d probably have snapped right back, but Zachary was gentle, almost painfully polite–avoiding confrontation whenever he could, and always looking for a roundabout solution.


    “It’s just… you used to get driven to school in a private car. This is a pretty big change. I thought maybe it’d be hard to get used to.”


    Alessia understood. She swept her gaze around the bus, and the moment the other students felt her eyes on them, they quickly looked away.


    “How much longer till our stop, Zach?” Her voice was steady but carried just enough to reach every corner of the bus.