The sun over Aurelius University was relentless, turning the red-brick buildings into glowing embers. It was a scene straight out of an elite prospectus: students in designer hoodies lounged on the manicured lawns, their laughter echoing off the marble pillars like silver bells. The air was a thick cocktail of expensive perfume, freshly cut grass, and the low, constant hum of luxury cars pulling into the lot. It was the sound of privilege—loud, effortless, and entirely untouchable.

​Ayaan stood at the massive wrought-iron gates, his eyes hidden behind dark shades. For a heartbeat, the bustle of the morning faded. He wasn't seeing the students; he was seeing a flash of his brother’s lopsided grin as he stood right here six months ago, holding his acceptance letter. A sharp, cold pang hit Ayaan’s chest, but he forced it down.