The Art of Wealth: I Became a Billionaire

The bell rang at Windsor High School. Students poured out of their classrooms, chatting, laughing, slamming lockers.

Emma stepped out of Room 304, books clutched to her chest, her dark brown curls bouncing slightly as she moved. Beside her was Catherine, her best friend. "I’m just saying," Catherine said, "if we start the project now, we won’t be rushed when the deadline sneaks up."

Emma nodded, distracted. "You’re right. I just haven’t really thought about it, you know?"

"You’ve been a little... spacey lately," Catherine said, narrowing her eyes with fake suspicion. "Is something going on you’re not telling me?"

Emma gave a small smile. "Nothing serious. Just tired."

They stepped into the open school courtyard. The early evening sun was soft and golden, and students scattered in different directions, some heading to the bus stop, others to the parking lot.

Then Catherine suddenly stopped walking. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Emma... that woman... do you see her?"

Emma blinked, confused. "What woman?"

Catherine leaned closer. "Right there. Across the street. The one in the long gray coat. She’s looking at you."

Emma turned slightly, not wanting to make it obvious. And there she was.

A woman, maybe in her late 40s or early 50s, standing on the other side of the road, half-hidden under the shade of a tree. Her eyes were fixed directly on Emma, like she was watching her every move.