“Alessia<b>, </b><b>you </b>really loved being the center of attention all morning, didn’t <b>you</b><b>?</b><b>” </b>If this were still Crestview High, that spotlight would’ve been mine.


    That bitter thought darkened Ileana’s expression, while Alessia just blinked at her<b>, </b>all wide–eyed innocence.


    “Did I? But honestly, I’m in the spotlight every single day.”


    Ileana clenched her back teeth so hard she thought they might crack, but she couldn’t muster a retort. It was true–she was supposed to be Miss Tate, yet in ss she was practically invisible. Alessia, on the other hand, didn’t even have to try. No matter what she did, she drew everyone’s attention.


    Just sitting there, people flocked to talk to her, agree with her, even try to win her favor.


    Why? Was it all because she’d gotten to live the good life for a few years?


    Ileana’s anger simmered higher and higher. When she saw Alessia walking up, she snatched a basketball from the rack and hurled it at her.


    One after another, she lobbed the balls, each one bouncing off the gym floor with a thunderous echo.


    Alessia stopped in her tracks, dodging each ball as they bounced back up from the polished wood.


    “Ileana!” Catching thest ball as it ricocheted her way, Alessia, barely containing her irritation, tossed it casually into a corner basket.


    “What’s wrong, Alessia? Not so unppable now, are you? Isn’t this just a tiny little lesson? I thought you were always so poised, so above it all. Look at you. now–feeling a bit humiliated?”


    Her voice, sharp and mocking, grated on Alessia’s nerves.


    Alessia let out a disbelievingugh. “Really? Is that all you’ve got? If you’d thrown a knife, maybe I’d have some respect for you. But this? These petty little games? Who


    you really belittling here?”


    are


    “Alessia! Who are you to look down on me? You’re just a fraud–a fake heiress who got switched at birth. Your real home is that rundown apartment building, you get that? Everything you have now should’ve been mine. Mine!”


    Seeing Alessia standing there, calm and proud as ever, only made Ileana more


    <b>12 </b>


    frantic, her insecurity bubbling over.


    It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Thest time she’d <b>seen </b>Alessia, she was just some ordinary girl hanging out with street punks. How did she go from that to living like royalty overnight?


    If I hadn’t hesitated back then, all of this would be mine. Mine!


    Obsessed, almost frantic, Ileana grabbed a volleyball and flung it at Alessia.


    Alessia clenched her jaw, her lips curled in a smile, but her eyes were cold as


    winter.


    She caught the volleyball and flicked it aside, letting it roll into the corner. Clearly, she was already bored with this tiresome little game. As Ileana hurled onest ball, Alessia blocked it with her arm and headed for the stairs to the second floor.


    Ileana’s face drained of color as Alessia advanced.


    Panic rose, and she instinctively took a step back, only to stumble over a basket and nearly fall, grabbing the railing to steady herself.


    “Why aren’t you hurt?”


    Ileana’s face was ghostly, her arm throbbing.


    “What, you thought your old middle school tricks would work on me too?”


    “How… how did you know?”


    The words barely left Ileana’s mouth before Alessia seized her chin in a vice–like grip.


    The pressure brought tears to Ileana’s pampered eyes, her face twisting in pain and humiliation.