Around Thursday, the girls-Maeve, Julia, Amelia-and I decided to head into the village for a bit of shopping. The air was crisp and cool, with just enough warmth from the sun to make the outing feel perfect. We'd wandered in and out of stores, each one with its own plush displays and endless rows of designer brands. I'd lost count of the times I'd tried to politely decline their attempts to buy things for me, but they'd insisted.

"Come on, Evelyn," Maeve had teased. "Think of it as us properly welcoming you."

There was something strangely comforting in the way they acted-like actual friends, not like they were pretending for some ulterior motive. A small part of me allowed myself to relax, realizing that maybe, just maybe, this group could be something solid.

As we were strolling between shops, Julia nudged me, her eyes bright with curiosity. "So, Evelyn, is this your first time in the village?"

"Not exactly," I said, smiling. "I came a few days ago and wandered into the gardens. Ended up meeting this really kind man there."

Amelia's eyebrows shot up, and Maeve gave me an incredulous look. "Wait, a nice villager? They usually hate Kingsford students. We're... not exactly popular around here."

"Yeah, they think we're spoiled, and honestly, some of us kind of are," Julia said with a wry smile. "Plus, a lot of the students treat the villagers like they're beneath them."

I just shrugged. "I didn't notice any of that. The ice cream guy was friendly, and so was this older man in a hat."

Julia and Maeve exchanged a look, as if they couldn't quite believe it, but I just smiled and shrugged. Not everyone bought into the drama of Kingsford, right?

After what felt like hours, we were just about ready to call it a day when we bumped into Thomas and Max outside one of the shops. They both looked relaxed, like they had no intention of setting foot in a classroom today. Typical.

"What happened to class?" Maeve asked, raising a brow with a knowing smile.

Max smirked, shifting his weight. "Thursdays are... optional," he replied casually, giving me a wink.

Julia rolled her eyes. "I'd love to see you explain that one to the headmaster."

Ignoring Max's grin, I turned to Thomas. "Have you guys seen Dan? He hasn't been to class all week."

A shadow passed over Thomas's face, and he exchanged a glance with Max before he answered. "He's okay, more or less. Has a black eye, but he'll survive. The bigger issue was his parents."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

Julia sighed, her face softening. "It's... complicated. In our world, reputation is everything. Dan's parents weren't angry about the fight itself-they were upset because the video got out. The entire school's seen it. His parents probably think it's going to tank their image."

"They're not the only ones," Thomas muttered. "Most of our parents keep an eye on The Kings Gossip just as much as we do. Any mistake, any drama-especially if it's posted online-has real consequences."

It took me a moment to absorb what they were saying. Here, gossip wasn't just whispers and rumors. It was weaponized. The Kings Gossip could destroy a family's reputation, shake up business deals, even ruin someone's future over something as trivial as a bad photo or a messy breakup.

Julia seemed to pick up on my shock, and her face softened. "A while back, they wrote an article about me. Called me out for my weight, hinted that I didn't belong. Even suggested I'd be a bad influence. I can still remember every single word. It's... engraved."

I felt a pang of anger on her behalf. "Julia... I'm so sorry."

She managed a small, sad smile. "It's just the way it is here. One misstep and they have your head on a silver platter."

Maeve put her arm around Julia, comforting her while I stood there, letting the weight of their words sink in. Kingsford wasn't just a school-it was a spotlight that could burn or elevate, depending on the mood of whoever wielded it. The Kings Gossip, with its vicious gossip and judgment, was only a tool for keeping everyone under pressure, turning even the smallest rumors into society-ending scandals. And it was worse than I'd realized.

"I can't believe people actually lose deals over this stuff," I said, shaking my head. "It's all so twisted."

Maeve nodded grimly. "Twisted is exactly right. You wouldn't believe some of the lengths people go to. Parents put insane expectations on their kids, and The Kings Gossip just amplifies it. One slip, and you're done."

The whole thing felt sick. But before I could dwell on it too much, a flash of movement caught my eye-a man in a jacket with glasses and a hat, walking briskly along the opposite side of the street. My breath caught. I knew that walk, that posture. It was the man from the garden.

"It's him..." I muttered to myself. My friends turned, confused.

"Evelyn, are you okay?" Maeve asked.

"I'll be right back. Just... need some air." I slipped away from the group before they could question me further and set off down the street, tailing the man at a cautious distance. He was weaving through the narrow streets like he had a purpose, glancing over his shoulder now and then.

I kept my steps light, keeping to the edges of the buildings. For some reason, I didn't want him to know I was following. There was something familiar about him, something that pulled me closer, even though every instinct told me to turn back.

He rounded a corner, and I hurried to catch up, barely keeping him in my sight. The streets were quieter here, and I could hear his footsteps against the cobblestone path. Just as I was about to turn the corner after him, I stopped, peeking around the edge. He was standing still, scanning the alley as if he'd sensed someone was watching. I pressed back, trying not to make a sound.

But then, out of nowhere, a hand reached from behind me, clamping around my wrist. I sucked in a sharp breath as I turned, expecting to see the ice cream man-or someone equally strange. But it wasn't.

It was Alex.

"What on earth are you doing?" His voice was low, urgent, and way too close.

I glared up at him, wrenching my hand free. "What are you doing?"

"Keeping you from wandering into trouble," he shot back, his blue-gray eyes narrowed. "Do you have any idea who that man is?"

I straightened, defiance hardening in my chest. "He's a friend. At least, he's been more of a friend than half the people here."

Alex's mouth tightened, but he said nothing, just continued to stare down at me with that infuriating, unreadable expression of his.

"Look, Alex," I started, determined not to let him intimidate me, "whatever you think you know about him, it's my business. Not yours."

"Is that so?" His smirk was slight but irritatingly present. "You're more naive than I thought, Evelyn."

Before I could throw another snappy response, the man reappeared at the end of the alley, glancing around again, as if searching. I felt Alex's grip tighten on my arm, pulling me slightly back, just enough to keep us hidden.

"This isn't a game, Evelyn," he whispered, his voice tense. "Some people in Kingsford have more secrets than you'd think. Stay away from him. Consider it a warning."

Then, as if nothing had happened, he released my arm, straightened his jacket, and walked out of the alley without so much as a second glance.

I stood there, torn between anger and confusion. Alex's warning rang in my ears, but the defiant part of me-the one that hated being told what to do-felt even more curious. What secrets could a man with a hat possibly be hiding? And why did Alex care about it?

I watched Alex stride down the alley with his signature confidence, shoulders back and gaze set forward, as if the world belonged to him. My instincts tugged at me, urging me to trail behind, not after the man in the hat, but after Alex. Maybe it was my curiosity. Maybe it was the strange, frustrating feeling of knowing that he held secrets he refused to share. Whatever it was, I turned on my heel and followed him, moving quietly so he wouldn't see me.

He didn't look back once, not even when he ducked into a side street and crossed toward a small, understated café at the edge of the village square. Through the glass, I could see the others already seated around a table, chatting and laughing, cups of coffee and plates of pastries scattered in front of them.

For a moment, I hesitated outside. But Maeve spotted me through the window, waving me in enthusiastically with that bright grin of hers. So much for a discreet entrance.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside, letting the warmth of the café wash over me. The smell of freshly ground coffee and cinnamon hung in the air. As soon as I approached, Maeve pulled out a chair between her and Julia, patting it as if I'd been missing all day.

"Finally!" Maeve grinned as I sat down. "We thought we'd lost you back there."

"Just... needed a second to breathe," I said, glancing briefly at Alex, who was leaning back in his chair, his expression unreadable as he sipped his coffee. He didn't seem phased by my sudden arrival, just gave a slight nod in my direction. "This place is nice."

Julia nudged her coffee toward me. "Try it! They make the best vanilla lattes here."

I took a sip, letting the warmth relax me. The café buzzed with soft conversations, and for a moment, it felt like a rare escape from the sharp edge of Kingsford's drama.

"So, what exactly happened out there?" Max asked, raising an eyebrow. "We saw you slip off in the middle of the street."

I hesitated, thinking back to the alley, to the strange encounter with the man in the hat-and then to Alex's warning. He was watching me intently now, almost as if daring me to say something.

I shrugged, giving a half-truth. "Just... some weird coincidence. Saw someone who looked familiar."

Maeve laughed, nudging me. "Only you would manage to get lost while stalking mystery men in this tiny village."

I laughed it off, focusing on my coffee, while Alex's gaze lingered on me for a moment longer before he looked away.

We spent the next hour chatting, laughing, and catching up on the week's gossip. Max entertained us with stories of his latest attempts to get through his philosophy class, and Maeve and Julia filled me in on plans for the next party, already hyped up about the weekend.

But every now and then, my eyes drifted back to Alex, sitting quietly at the end of the table. He had that unreadable look again, something thoughtful and guarded. He must have noticed, because he finally glanced back and gave me a small smirk, as if to say he knew something I didn't.