The Rain at Hamilton
The first rain of September fell like silver threads over Hamilton University, drenching the ivy-covered walls and the wide stone courtyard. Students hurried across the slick pavement, laughter echoing through the air — everyone except the quiet new transfer standing by the fountain.
Ethan Grey adjusted his backpack and tilted his head toward the bell tower. Every raindrop seemed to blur his reflection in the water, as though the world itself conspired to erase who he was. Ethan Vale no longer existed — not here, not while he was trying to live like an ordinary student.
He inhaled the earthy scent of wet grass, savoring the anonymity. Nobody recognized him as the heir to Vale Industries, the global empire his father ruled from skyscrapers and boardrooms. Here, he was just another face in the rain.
A sudden shout broke through the patter of water. Across the courtyard, a girl was struggling with a stack of books nearly taller than she was. One slipped, then another, scattering across the stones. Ethan hesitated — then jogged over.
“Hey,” he said, crouching beside her. “Let me help.”
She blinked up at him, startled. Her eyes were a deep hazel that seemed to catch the rain like amber glass. “Thanks,” she murmured, brushing hair from her face.
Together they gathered the fallen textbooks. One was a worn copy of Modern Economic Ethics, its pages wrinkled from earlier storms. She gave a sheepish smile. “Guess waterproof bags weren’t in my budget this semester.”
“Economics major?” he asked.
“Literature minor,” she corrected. “But the scholarship board thought this class would ‘diversify my potential.’” Her voice carried both pride and fatigue. “I’m Lila Hart.”
“Ethan,” he said, shaking her hand.
For a heartbeat, the rain seemed to soften. The sound around them faded. Something unspoken sparked — not attraction, exactly, but recognition, as though two storms had crossed paths.
Then a flash of lightning cracked the sky. Lila flinched, clutching her books tighter. Ethan noticed — but said nothing.
As she hurried toward the library steps, he saw a small photograph slip from her notebook. He bent down to pick it up — an old picture of a smiling couple and a little girl between them.
He turned to call after her, but she was already gone.
Ethan pocketed the photo, intending to return it later.
He didn’t know that this small act would pull him into a story darker — and far more dangerous — than anything his father’s money could control.
In the upper window of the administration building, a man in a black coat watched Ethan and Lila through the rain — the silver glint of his wristwatch catching the light.
