With Russell's personality, even without love, he'd have respected her for life.

Ella never got that.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

He wasn't the star professor yet—just a young PhD student. Still, campus heartthrob. Girls lined up for him.

But the only one who just stared, speechless? Me.

"I... I wanted to ask you something."

I finally worked up the nerve to ask about our major. He answered smooth, no hesitation.

He wasn't like me, clawing into Harven with pure grind. He was a genius—one glance and he had it.

"Let me buy you lunch," I said with a smile.

Russell came from a poor family, and this was his roughest stretch. Even in the cafeteria, he stuck to the cheapest meals.

He looked at me, ears burning. "No need."

But I pushed, and paid anyway.

After that, we studied together a lot. Anytime I got stuck, I'd ask him.

By semester's end, I was top of the program.

And those meals I slipped him? Made his last school years a little less brutal.

I was wrapped up in the thrill of progress—until the day I saw Ella stepping out of some old guy's car near home.

She fluttered her lashes climbing out, but once his car pulled away, her face twisted. "Old creep. Like you're worthy of touching me."

She shook her clothes off like they were contaminated.

Then she looked up—and locked eyes with me.

I wasn't planning on talking, but she strutted over, flashing a Chanel bag and a Van Cleef bracelet with every move.

"Hannah, look at you. Pathetic. Beauty, money—it's all mine now. You must be dying of jealousy."

Her eyes sparkled like she'd already stomped me into the ground.

I smiled faintly. "Jealous of what? Hooking up with old men for gifts? Fooling around with street punks? Or maybe bombing out of college and ending up at a trade school?"

My stare made it clear—I couldn't be bothered.

Her smugness cracked, shame and rage spilling through. "Everything you had last life is mine now. Don't tell me you're not jealous—you're just faking it!"

She wanted me to break. I didn't.

"Sure, sure," I said. "Whatever you say. Now get out of my face."

I was done.

But then she clutched her stomach and dropped to a crouch. "I... my stomach hurts."

I figured it was another act and started to walk off—

until I spotted the blood pooling under her.

I froze.

"Take me to the hospital," she gasped. "Or I'll scream and say you pushed me."

Her face twisted with real pain.

It wasn't that I worried she'd lie. Taking her to the hospital wasn't a big deal.

On the way, she called Lindsay. "Mom, hurry—I'm at the hospital."

The doctor ran tests, then gave her a serious look. "You're pregnant. No intercourse in the first trimester. You were close to losing the baby."

Lindsay's eyes went wide. "What? You're pregnant?!"

She smacked Ella across the face. "Didn't I tell you? Take the pills! How the heck do you forget when you're out screwing around?"