CHAPTER 1

"Arienne, go take the trash out," Mom said, washing the dishes.

"Ugh..." I groaned, dragging myself out of bed in my pajamas.

I shuffled into the kitchen, grabbed the trash bag, and stepped out of our apartment. The hallway was cold. The bag wasn't heavy—martial arts had made sure of that—but I pretended to struggle anyway. No one except Fay and Blair knew I trained, and I planned to keep it that way.

"Hey, need a hand?"

I turned. A boy, maybe a little older than me, stood there. Tall—at least 6'2"—with messy hair and a slate-gray hoodie that looked way too comfortable.

"Maybe," I said.Before I could say anything more, he stepped forward, took the bag, tossed it into the trash chute like it was nothing, then dusted off his hands.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

He just smiled—warm, easy—before heading into the apartment next to ours.And just like that, he was gone.

I went back inside, straight to the kitchen.

"Mom, who lives next door?"

"I think a high school math teacher and her family. She teaches some of the neighborhood kids," she said.

"Oh," I mumbled, still curious as I walked back to my room.

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A WEEK LATER

"Ari, come on!" Mom called. "We need groceries if you want lunch!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" I rushed out, following her to the store.

Inside, I trailed behind as she filled the cart.

"Mom, I'm gonna check the ice cream section," I said, already moving toward the freezers.

"Alright, stay there—I'll come by in a minute."

I made a beeline for the freezer aisle, scanning the shelves. My eyes locked onto a tub of chocolate chip ice cream—Polar, the best brand out there. Just as I reached for it—

A tap on my shoulder.

I tensed, instinct kicking in. Then I turned.