Chapter 8

Ellie's POV

I shook my head, a lump forming in my throat as I collected the last tiny fragment. "It won't be the same. I trusted him with something irreplaceable, Emma. My family has passed this down for generations, and I... I let it be destroyed because I thought he cared about our friendship."

Emma wrapped an arm around my shoulders as I clutched the broken pieces to my chest, the reality of Lucas's betrayal sinking in deeper than any splinter. "I was so wrong about him," I whispered. "So completely wrong."

The weeks that followed passed in a blur of routine. I went to class, attended cheer practice, studied for exams—all while carefully avoiding any path that might cross with Lucas's. When I saw him in the hallway, I looked through him as if he were made of glass. When his name came up in conversation, I changed the subject. As far as I was concerned, Lucas Miller no longer existed in my world.

It didn't go unnoticed. Teachers stopped pairing us for projects. Friends stopped mentioning him around me. Even the school counselor called me in once, asking delicately if I wanted to talk about "the situation with Lucas," an offer I politely declined.

Lucas, meanwhile, seemed to be spiraling. I heard rumors of missed basketball practices, failing grades, and increasingly frequent visits to the principal's office. Twice I saw his mother, Caroline, hurrying through the school parking lot, her face drawn with worry. The third time I literally bumped into her outside the administration building.

"Ellie," she said, her voice catching. Her eyes—the same deep brown as Lucas's—held a mixture of sorrow and guilt. She reached out as if to touch my arm, then stopped herself. "I... how are you doing?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Miller," I replied stiffly, clutching my books tighter.

She nodded, seeming to search for words. "I want you to know... that is... it's not..." She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Take care of yourself, dear."

Winter break came as a relief, two weeks without having to navigate school hallways like minefields. I focused on family, on controlling my transformations without the pendant, on building a stronger version of myself.

When classes resumed after winter break, I noticed something different. Samantha wasn't in the hallways, wasn't clinging to Lucas's arm, wasn't shooting me those smug looks across the cafeteria.

I overheard Lucas asking Jessica after calculus, "Have you seen Samantha today?"

"No, I figured she was still on vacation or something," Jessica replied with a shrug.

By the end of the week, rumors were swirling. Lucas looked increasingly anxious, constantly checking his phone between classes. I caught glimpses of him approaching different teachers, his expression growing more desperate each time.

Emma leaned over during lunch to whisper, "Did you hear? Samantha's gone. Like, completely gone."

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying not to show too much interest.

"Transferred out. No warning, no explanation. Her social media's been wiped clean. Lucas is freaking out—he went to the office this morning."

Later, I saw Lucas emerging from the administrative office, looking pale and shaken. According to the hallway whispers, Mrs. Hernandez had told him Samantha had withdrawn from Mapleton High effective December 30th, with no forwarding information provided.

The news spread quickly through school. Samantha Grey had vanished—no explanation, no goodbyes. It was as if she'd never existed.

Lucas tried to maintain a brave face. He threw himself into basketball practice, stayed late in the gym, and focused on bringing his grades back up. But I could see the confusion in his eyes, hear the whispers that followed him.

"Did you hear about Samantha?"

"Just disappeared over break..."

"Poor Lucas, she didn't even say goodbye..."

I wasn't sure how to feel. Part of me—a small, petty part I wasn't proud of—felt vindicated. But mostly I felt nothing. The broken pieces of my pendant, now carefully stored in a small wooden box on my dresser, were a constant reminder that some things couldn't be fixed.

Lucas tried approaching me several times. In Biology, he slid into the seat next to mine, placing a coffee on my desk with a hesitant smile. I looked at the coffee, then at him, before quietly moving the cup aside and focusing on my textbook. When he left a note in my locker, I returned it unopened. I wasn't being cruel—I was being honest. Whatever we had once shared was over.

I'd maintained my position at the top of our class. Lucas, meanwhile, had somehow pulled his grades up enough during the final quarter to stay on track for graduation, though his basketball performance never suffered—his wolf-enhanced reflexes giving him an unfair advantage that coaches simply called "natural talent."

March brought the anxiety of college application season. I'd applied to seven schools, with Cedar View University as my first choice for their renowned Computer Science program. My mother insisted I'd get in anywhere with my SAT scores and extracurriculars, but the waiting was still excruciating.

The envelope arrived on a Tuesday afternoon in April—thick and promising, with the CVU emblem embossed on the corner. My hands trembled as I opened it.

"Dear Ms. Green, We are pleased to offer you admission to Cedar View University's Class of 2020 with a full academic scholarship..."

Mom screamed when I showed her, pulling me into a tight hug. "I knew it! I knew they'd recognize how brilliant you are!"

Our celebration was interrupted by excited shouting from across the street. Through our front window, I could see the Miller house erupting with activity—Lucas's parents hugging him on their front porch, his father clapping him enthusiastically on the back.

"Looks like someone else got good news today," Mom observed.

Ten minutes later, our doorbell rang. I opened it to find Caroline Miller standing there, beaming with pride.

"Ellie! Lucas just got his acceptance to Cedar View on a basketball scholarship! And I saw your mother jumping up and down earlier—did you hear from them too?"

Before I could answer, she pulled me into an awkward hug. "Oh, this is wonderful! You both got in! Just like we always hoped."

I stiffened, unsure how to respond. Caroline seemed to have momentarily forgotten the rift between her son and me, carried away by maternal pride.

"Yes, I got accepted to their Computer Science program," I said carefully.

"Perfect! You two can look out for each other there," she gushed, either ignoring or truly forgetting the past months of silence between us. "Lucas will need someone to keep him focused on his studies, and you know how the first year away from home can be so challenging..."

From over Caroline's shoulder, I could see Lucas standing awkwardly on their front porch, watching us. Our eyes met briefly across the street—his expression unreadable, mine deliberately blank.

"I'm sure Lucas will be fine on his own," I said, my voice polite but firm.