Page 18 of Born in Sin (Phoenix #3)

“I don’t care for your attitude.”

Her mother was tight lipped with fury.

“And I don’t care for yours!” All of Celina’s righteous rage bubbled over, making her throw caution to the winds.

“Celina!” Her mother took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes closed. “You are a child. There is a lot you don’t know.”

“I know Pa says he is never coming to India again.”

Her mother’s eyes flashed open, shock reflecting in them.

“What?” Celina asked, her eyes shining with tears. “You thought I couldn’t hear the shouting?” Her mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “It was a very Merry Christmas, Ma.”

“None of that has anything to do with this boy. You are not going to talk to him anymore.”

Celina turned away from her mother, not bothering to answer. She walked towards the door without a backward glance.

“Celina!!”

Her mother’s shout reverberated in the corridor as she slammed the door behind her and stormed off.

She left the school building and wandered toward the swimming pool, her footsteps slow and aimless, the silence of the Sunday afternoon wrapping around her like a second skin.

With no rigid schedules to chase or bell schedules to obey, the campus felt like a ghost town—stripped of its usual noise, its polished perfection revealing cracks beneath the surface.

The path curved through a patch of overgrown trees, their roots jutting out like gnarled fingers clawing through the manicured earth. She stumbled over one, catching herself just in time, but the jolt travelled up her spine. A twisted root, unexpected and stubborn. Out of place. Just like her.

She paused, brushing a smear of dirt off her jeans, then looked around as if expecting someone to see her fall. No one did. No one ever did.

She didn’t belong here. Not in this pristine, ivy-draped school where everyone seemed to glide through life with curated smiles and ancient last names.

Her mother called this place a “new beginning.” But it felt more like a gilded prison, every rule another chain, every expectation a weight she couldn’t breathe under.

And then there was him .

The boy who had cracked open something inside her with just one look.

Storms lived behind his eyes—wild and dangerous and strangely familiar.

He saw her. Really saw her. But even that came with consequences she didn’t know how to navigate.

Wanting him felt like diving headfirst into dark water without knowing how deep it went.

She reached the edge of the pool and sank down on a sun-warmed bench, staring at the rippling surface. God, why was everything so hard?

“Hi. Celina right?”

Celina looked up from her perch on the bench. With the sun behind him, it was hard to make out the boy’s face. She squinted up, one hand coming to shadow her eyes so she could see better.

“Yes?”

“I’m Majid. I’m in your grade, different section.” He sat down beside her, a big smile on his face. “We haven’t really spoken till now.”

Majid, of course. He was friends with Varun, the boy her mother had introduced her to on the first day of school. They were part of the same gang.

“No, we haven’t,” she replied, smiling back a little warily.

“Are you enjoying your time at Crestwood?” he asked.

Celina grimaced.

Majid laughed, a bright, clear sound. “That good huh?”

She smiled reluctantly. “It’s okay, I guess.”

In the distance, someone called out his name and Majid rose to his feet. “Come hang out with me and my friends? We’re not a bad bunch.”

Celina glanced over to the cluster of boys and girls in the distance, standing under a tree. Celina wasn’t sure she liked Varun and his lackeys though they mostly left her alone. There were some benefits to being the teacher’s pet. And then she looked at Majid and his wide, welcoming smile.

“Maybe another time,” she said, shaking her head. “Thanks for the offer though.”

Majid left to join the others, with one last look over his shoulder at her. Celina’s gaze strayed to where the other kids were standing, seeking shade on a bright, sunny day.

She sat there, alone, bright, hot sunlight beating down on her head. And realised something…She didn’t want the sunlight. All she wanted was the storm.