The wind at the top of the North Wing didn't feel like normal air. It felt like a warning.
Winter stood at the edge of the metal railing, her fingers gripping the cold steel until her knuckles turned white. Below her, the endless sea of pine trees swayed in the breeze, looking like dark green waves. To everyone else at St. Jude's Academy, Winter was the "Ice Queen"—the girl with the perfect grades, the perfect family, and a heart made of glass that no one dared to touch.
But inside, she felt like she was suffocating.
"You know, the view is better if you actually look at it instead of trying to strangle the railing," a voice drifted from the corner.
Winter jumped, spinning around. Sitting on a wooden bench, partially hidden by the shadows of the water tank, was a boy. He had a pair of battered headphones around his neck and a notebook filled with messy scribbles.
It was Sonata. The boy who used to play the piano until his fingers bled, then suddenly stopped a year ago. Now, he was just a ghost who haunted the hallways.
"This is a restricted area," Winter said, her voice regaining its usual chill.
Sonata smirked, leaning his head back against the wall. "Everything fun is restricted, Winter. Don't you get tired of following the rules?"
She looked back at the sky. The way the white clouds were gathering and swirling felt just like the cover of a novel she had always wanted to write but never did. "Rules are what keep things from falling apart," she insisted.
"No," Sonata stood up, walking toward the railing. He stood a few feet away, looking out at the horizon. "Rules are just things people invented because they're afraid of what happens when we choose for ourselves."
He turned to her, his eyes searching hers. "They say you can be anything, Winter. A doctor, a lawyer, a perfect daughter. But look at you. You're miserable."
Winter felt a lump in her throat. "And what about you? You were supposed to be a prodigy. Now you're just… here."
"I'm here because I'm waiting," he whispered. "For someone to ask the right question."
The silence between them stretched, filled only by the whistling of the wind through the pines. For the first time in years, Winter didn't feel like a student or a daughter. She felt like a person.
"Why don't we?" she asked suddenly. Her own voice surprised her.
Sonata tilted his head. "Why don't we what?"
"Stop waiting," Winter said, her grip on the railing loosening. "We can be anything. So… why don't we?"
Sonata's smirk faded into a real, soft smile. He reached out a hand, not quite touching hers, but close enough that she could feel the heat.
"Is that a challenge, Ice Queen?"
"It's a pact," she replied.