Their original plan was simple: get Dawson to scare Sabrina with the snake, maybe let it slither over her or even bite her. The idea was that after such a fright, Sabrina would be so shaken that when she stumbled back to class and saw a desk crawling with mice, she’d completely lose it.
If she didn’t drop dead from fear, at least she’d be plagued with nightmares for weeks.
As long as Sabrina got what she deserved, they’d be satisfied.
But things hadn’t gone according to plan—twice now, their schemes had failed.
Celine couldn’t help but wonder if Sabrina had some sort of strange luck or hidden talent.
A flicker of disappointment crossed Celine’s eyes. She’d been looking forward to some real entertainment.
After all, with their class so far away from Sabrina’s, she’d never suspect them. Their involvement would remain a secret.
But nothing had gone as planned. What a waste.
Sabrina had slipped away again.
“Well, at least she’s okay,” Celine said, patting her chest with a nervous sigh.
Uliana gave her a nudge on the shoulder. “Celine, don’t go soft now. We did all this for you, remember? No sympathy for the enemy.”
Tiffany Scott crossed her arms, fuming. “Seriously, how does someone like her deserve to be the Sutton family’s heiress? Just because she moved in doesn’t mean she belongs. Don’t forget, Celine—never show mercy to your rival.”
Elena chimed in, “I heard Dawson and that boy were so scared they ended up in the hospital. They won’t be back for a while. Wonder if Dawson’s parents will come after her.”
The girls kept bad-mouthing Sabrina.
Yet, for reasons none of them would admit, watching Sabrina—who didn’t look the least bit shabby or desperate, but instead seemed to shine in her own way—really got under their skin.
After school.
A pink sports car pulled up at the gates, turning heads all over again.
Both the kids from Celine’s clique and the rest of their class stared at the car, phones at the ready. With the footage they’d already shot that morning, they were planning to post about Sabrina’s “secret sugar daddy” on the school forum that night.
Someone picking her up in a fancy car every day—the scandal would practically write itself. No wonder she acted so brazen and confident. At her age, she should know better than to play someone’s mistress.

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