Catrina POV

I turned, my jaw tight. Dozier Corbett stood there, a phantom from a past I had desperately tried to outrun.

"Who's that?" Maya whispered, nudging me playfully. Her brow furrowed then. "He looks... familiar. Is he famous?"

My expression remained cold, unyielding. "Who? Him?" I scoffed, forcing a laugh. "Never seen him before in my life. You must have me confused with someone else."

Dozier flinched as if struck. Before I could say another word, he closed the distance between us in a few hurried strides. "Catrina, please, can we talk? Privately?" His eyes were bloodshot, his face pale and drawn. He looked nothing like the arrogant Ivy League bully from just a few weeks ago. The usual sneer was gone, replaced by a desperate anxiety that made his features almost unrecognizable.

I turned away, annoyance bubbling within me. "I have nothing to say to you, Dozier." My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. "What is it this time? Is Angelique feeling neglected again? Did she need another one of my projects to pass off as her own? Or are you here to frame me for another nonexistent crime?" I finally looked back at him, my gaze piercing. "Because I'm tired. I'm so incredibly tired of your games. Unless you're here to confess to the police, I suggest you leave."

My voice, though calm, carried across the quad. A few students nearby paused their conversations, their gazes shifting curiously towards us. Maya, my usually bright-eyed friend, looked from Dozier to me, her jaw slightly agape.

Dozier visibly recoiled, his face draining of what little color it possessed. "Catrina, please," he pleaded, his voice a hoarse whisper. "I'm so sorry. I... I messed up. I know I did. Just give me a chance to explain."

I let out a short, humorless laugh. "Sorry? Sorry for what, precisely, Dozier? Are you sorry for abandoning me on that mountain? Sorry for calling me a thief, a liar, an ungrateful bitch? Sorry for ransacking my room and destroying my belongings? Sorry for standing by as Angelique tormented me, day in and day out? Which one of your myriad acts of cowardice are you apologizing for?" I needed him to grovel, not for my satisfaction, but for him to truly confront the depth of his betrayal. I wouldn't let him off the hook with a generic apology.

He stammered, his eyes wide and lost, like a fawn caught in headlights. "I didn't... I didn't know what you were going through. I just... Angelique told me things, and Mom and Dad..."

I finished his sentence for him, my voice devoid of warmth. "And you believed them. You always believed Angelique. The fragile, beautiful lie. You chose to believe a fabricated narrative over your own flesh and blood, over the girl you once called your sister. That tells me everything I need to know about your character."

I turned to Maya. "Come on. We'll be late for class."

As I started to walk away, a hand clamped around my arm. Dozier's grip was surprisingly strong. "Wait! Please! Mom and Dad... they're not doing well. The company stock is plummeting because of all the rumors. They want to see you. They want to fix this."

I stopped dead, my gaze slowly drifting down to his hand on my forearm, then up to his face. My eyes felt like shards of ice. He flinched, pulling his hand back as if burned. "Fix this?" I repeated, my voice dangerously soft. "You think this is about stock prices and rumors, Dozier? Eighteen years of neglect, of spiritual and emotional abuse, of being left to die on a freezing mountain, and you think a few dropped stock points are the 'problem'?" I shook my head, a bitter smile touching my lips. "You Corbetts are even more pathetic than I imagined."

I turned, leaving him standing there amidst the whispers of curious students. Maya, wide-eyed, hurried to catch up, her steps echoing mine. I didn't look back, but I felt his desperate gaze boring into my back. His regret was palpable, a tangible weight in the air. But it was too late. His apologies were meaningless. The damage was done.

A few days later, just as I was heading to my robotics club meeting, Ms. Goodman, my science teacher, caught up with me. "Catrina, the principal would like to see you in his office." Her voice was kind, but her expression held a hint of concern. "He said you have some family visiting."

Family. The word tasted like ash in my mouth. I knew who it was. They wouldn't give up so easily. They never did. They clung to power, to control, like a drowning man clings to a life raft. I steeled myself, plastering on a neutral expression. Let them come. I was ready. I pushed open the principal' s door.

Cordell Corbett, his face alight with a horrifyingly fake smile, lunged forward.

Catrina POV

Cordell Corbett, his face alight with a horrifyingly fake smile, lunged forward the moment I pushed open Principal Thompson's door. He moved so quickly, Dona barely had time to put a restraining hand on his arm.

"Catrina, darling! There you are! We've been so worried," he gushed, his voice oozing with a saccharine sweetness that made my stomach churn. He reached for me, his hands outstretched.

I recoiled before he could touch me, batting his hands away with a sharp, dismissive gesture. My gaze, cold and unwavering, swept past him, landing on Principal Thompson and Ms. Goodman, who stood by, looking uncomfortable.

"Principal Thompson," I began, my voice clear and steady, "correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't this school have a policy against unauthorized visitors on campus? Especially those who are not staff or registered family members?"

Ms. Goodman's eyebrows shot up. Her eyes, usually so sharp and perceptive, widened in surprise. "Catrina, honey, these are your parents," she started, her voice laced with gentle confusion.

I cut her off, my voice firm. "No, Ms. Goodman. They are not. I have no parents. I have been entirely on my own for quite some time now." I turned back to Cordell and Dona, my eyes narrowing. "Unless, of course, you can provide definitive proof of our parent-child relationship. A birth certificate with your names on it? A legal adoption decree? Perhaps a receipt for my dental work, or a record of my school tuition payments from the last three years?" I paused, letting the silence stretch. "Or, dare I ask, a single bill or expense that proves you have ever spent a dime on my upbringing since I was 'found'?" I met Cordell's gaze directly. "Can you provide any of that, Mr. Corbett?"

Cordell's face drained of all color. His outstretched hands, moments ago so eager to embrace, now hung uselessly in the air. His eyes, fixed on mine, flickered with a mixture of panic and raw humiliation.

Dona, her facade of calm completely shattered, stepped forward, her face a thundercloud. "That's enough, Catrina!" she hissed, her voice low and menacing. "We are your parents! Stop this ridiculous charade at once!"

I didn't flinch. I met her furious glare head-on. "Are you?" I challenged, my voice still dangerously calm. "Then prove it. The burden of proof is on you. Can you tell me my birthday without looking at a calendar? Can you name my favorite book? My favorite color? A single dream I've ever shared with you?" I paused, letting the questions hang in the air, heavy with their unspoken answers. "No. You cannot. Because you never cared to know."

Silence descended upon the room, thick and suffocating. Principal Thompson and Ms. Goodman exchanged a bewildered glance, their initial discomfort giving way to a dawning comprehension.

"We were teaching you independence!" Cordell stammered, finally finding his voice, though it was thin and reedy. "Tough love!"

I let out a short, cynical laugh. "Independence? You call abandonment independence? You call systematic abuse 'tough love'? What you inflicted upon me was neglect, plain and simple. And it was criminal." I turned to Principal Thompson, my voice gaining a steely edge. "They didn't just neglect me; they actively sabotaged my future. They tried to keep me from entering the National Robotics Championship, claiming my project was 'too dangerous' and 'a distraction from my studies.'"

Ms. Goodman gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Her expression, which had been one of concern, now twisted into pure indignation. Principal Thompson's face hardened, his gaze fixed on the Corbetts.