The next day, as Sabine worked behind the counter, she started noticing something strange. A few of their regular customers still greeted Gurvinder warmly, but some of the newer ones seemed hesitant—almost wary.

She watched as a couple entered the bakery, scanning the menu. Gurvi, ever the charmer, stepped forward with his usual friendly smile. "Good morning! First time here?"

The man hesitated, exchanging a glance with his wife. "Uh… yeah," he muttered, his tone uncertain.

Sabine saw how Gurvi's warm demeanor didn't quite break through their unease. The wife forced a polite smile but kept her eyes down, avoiding direct contact.

A few moments later, another customer—a middle-aged man—walked in, took one look at Gurvinder, and immediately turned away, leaving without a word.

Sabine's brows furrowed. That wasn't normal. She exchanged a quick glance with Tom, who had also noticed.

Something was off.

Marinette had been arranging fresh pastries when she noticed it too. A woman in line glanced at Gurvi, then whispered something to her husband before they quickly left without ordering. Another man hesitated before stepping forward, deliberately choosing to be served by Sabine instead of Gurvi.

Her grip on the tray tightened. This wasn't just a coincidence.

She glanced at Gurvi, who, as always, kept his usual charm, acting as if nothing was wrong. But she knew him too well—she saw the slight flicker in his eyes, the way his smile didn't quite reach them. He had noticed.

Her stomach twisted. Why were people suddenly treating him like this?

As soon as Marinette got a break, she rushed upstairs to her room, shutting the door behind her. She pulled out her phone and quickly called Alya.

"Alya, something's wrong," she said the moment her best friend picked up.

"Whoa, girl, slow down. What happened?" Alya asked.

Marinette took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "At the bakery today, some customers were avoiding Gurvi. Like, actually avoiding him. Some left without ordering, and others refused to be served by him. It wasn't like this before."

Alya was silent for a moment, then her voice turned serious. "That's weird… Hold up, let me check something."

Marinette heard typing on the other end, then a sharp inhale from Alya. "Mari… I think I know why."

Marinette's heart pounded. "What is it?"

"Someone leaked information about Gurvi online." Alya's voice was grim. "His illegal status, how he got into the country, even the footage of him slapping Chloé."

Marinette felt the air leave her lungs. "What?" she whispered, gripping her phone tighter.

"It's everywhere, Mari. News articles, social media posts… and the way they're twisting it? They're making him look dangerous." Alya paused, her tone heavy. "This is bad, Mari."

Marinette didn't even respond—she just hung up and immediately opened her social media apps. Her fingers trembled as she scrolled through her feed.

Her heart sank.

Gurvinder's name was everywhere. News headlines, viral posts, comment sections filled with people spewing opinions about him.

"Illegal immigrant hiding in Paris?"

"Violent thug caught attacking the mayor's daughter—why wasn't he arrested?"

"A criminal in our schools?"

There were videos, too. The footage of him slapping Chloé had been clipped and edited to make it look like he attacked her without reason. No context. No mention of why he did it. Just a slowed-down replay of his hand connecting with her face, again and again.

She clenched her fists as she scrolled through the comments.

"This guy doesn't belong here."

"He should be deported immediately."

"He's dangerous! How did the school even allow him in?"

"The bakery family is harboring an illegal immigrant? Boycott them."

Marinette's vision blurred with anger. They were turning him into a villain. They didn't know anything about him—about what he'd been through. About how much he had suffered.

And worst of all… she knew he would see this soon.

Marinette's hands were shaking as she called Alya again, her breaths coming fast and uneven. Before Alya could even say hello, Marinette spoke.

"Alya—I—I can't—It's everywhere! They're—" Her voice cracked as she struggled to get the words out.

"Mari, calm down!" Alya's voice was firm but worried. "What happened?"

"I—I'm adding Adrien," Marinette choked out, quickly tapping the screen to add him to the call.

A moment later, Adrien's voice came through. "Marinette? What's going on?"

She tried to speak, but the words got caught in her throat. Her chest felt too tight, her breaths too short. "I—I can't—"

"*Marinette, breathe.*" Alya said urgently. "Deep breaths, girl. In and out. You're okay."

Adrien's voice was softer but just as worried. "Mari, we're here. Just tell us what's wrong."

Marinette squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to take a shaky breath. "It's Gurvi. They're ruining him."

"What do you mean?" Adrien asked, his tone darkening.

Marinette gripped the phone tighter. "They leaked everything. His illegal status, how he got here, even that fight with Chloé—but they twisted it!" She let out a frustrated sob. "They're calling him a criminal, saying he's dangerous! And now people are avoiding him—at the bakery, at school—"

"Wait, wait, hold on." Alya's voice was sharp. "Who's 'they'? Who leaked this?"

"I—I don't know," Marinette admitted, her breath still uneven. "But whoever did this… they want to destroy him."

Marinette took another shaky breath, trying to steady herself. "Adrien, the bakery was weird today. People were avoiding Gurvi. Some customers left without ordering when they saw him. Others refused to be served by him. It wasn't like this before."

Adrien was silent for a moment, then his voice came through, low and tense. "They're turning people against him."

"Yes!" Marinette exclaimed, her frustration spilling out. "And it's working! Even people who used to be regulars were acting distant. It felt wrong, Adrien." She swallowed hard. "He hasn't seen the posts yet, but when he does…"

She trailed off, gripping her phone tighter. She knew how much this would hurt Gurvi. He had just started feeling like he belonged. He had just started seeing hope for a better life. And now—now this.

Adrien exhaled sharply. "We can't let this get worse."

"Exactly!" Alya jumped in. "We need to do something before it spirals even more."

Marinette nodded, though they couldn't see her. "But what? We don't even know who's behind this."

Adrien's voice was grim. "We need to find out. Fast."

Just as Marinette was about to speak again, there was a knock at the door. She froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She quickly muttered, "I—I'll call you both back." Without waiting for a response, she hung up and stood up from her desk, walking to the door with slow, measured steps.

When she opened it, there stood Gurvinder. His face was as calm as ever, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of concern, perhaps confusion—that made her heart twist.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice steady, though there was a subtle edge to it.

Marinette swallowed, forcing a smile, but she knew it wouldn't hide the worry in her eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… needed a moment."

Gurvi raised an eyebrow, glancing past her at the phone still warm in her hand. "Talking to someone?"

Marinette hesitated before shaking her head, stepping aside. "No, just… thinking."

She wanted to tell him everything—wanted to protect him from the ugliness that was now spreading about him—but she didn't know where to begin. How could she even explain what was happening? How could she make him understand that the world was turning on him for no reason?

Gurvi's eyes softened as he stepped into her room, glancing around with his usual quiet confidence. But there was a moment of silence, and she could almost feel the weight of the tension hanging in the air.

Then, in his typical way, he broke the silence. "If you're ever planning on running away from everything, you know you can always take a trip to a beach somewhere. Forget all this chaos." His grin was light, but it didn't reach his eyes.

Marinette blinked, her smile faltering as she stepped closer to him. "Gurvi…" she started, but her voice cracked slightly.

He raised a hand, cutting her off. "It's okay. I'm not mad. I get it." He shrugged, his expression neutral but the faintest hint of a sadness lingering beneath the surface. "Everything's falling apart around me, and I don't even know how to fix it anymore."

Marinette's heart sank as she looked at him—really looked at him—seeing the cracks in his armor. He wasn't just the strong, resilient person everyone saw. He was hurt. And she couldn't stand it.

"We'll figure it out," she said quietly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. "But you're not alone in this. Not anymore."

Gurvi's voice was quiet, but the hurt in his words cut through the air. He turned to Marinette, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Why is everyone avoiding me today, as if I'm disgusting?"

Marinette felt a lump rise in her throat as she looked at him. She could see the way his posture had shifted, the way he was trying to stay strong, but the question was too raw, too real. She had no answers for him—not yet.

"Don't take it personally," Marinette began, her voice soft but steady. "People can be... unpredictable sometimes. They hear things, see things, and sometimes it makes them react without thinking." She wanted to say more, but how could she? How could she explain to him the whispers, the rumors, the lies—without revealing too much?

Gurvi's eyes darkened for a moment, the vulnerability slipping through despite his best efforts. "It doesn't feel like they're just reacting," he said, his voice tight. "It feels like… like I've done something wrong. Like they don't want to be near me."

Marinette reached out and gently grasped his arm, her touch firm but comforting. "You haven't done anything wrong, Gurvi. Trust me." Her voice faltered slightly, but she pushed through. "It's just—people sometimes can't handle things they don't understand."

He met her eyes, his expression unreadable, but she saw the flicker of uncertainty in them. "Then why now? Why today?"

Marinette swallowed, her heart heavy with the truth she couldn't say. "I don't know. But we'll find out. And when we do, we'll fix it. Together."

He looked at her for a long moment before offering a small, strained smile. "You always know how to make things feel a little less... heavy."

But even as he said that, Marinette couldn't shake the feeling that the weight of the world was closing in on them both.

Gurvi sat behind the counter, his fingers tapping lightly against the wooden surface as he watched the empty bakery. It had been like this all morning—quiet, almost unnaturally so. The regular customers who usually greeted him with warm smiles and casual conversation barely spared him a glance now.

He sighed, resting his chin on his hand, waiting for things to return to normal.

Just then, the familiar jingle of the bell rang out as the bakery door swung open. His heart lifted slightly when he saw a familiar face—a woman who often came by with her little son. She had always been kind, always greeted him warmly. But today… something was different.

The woman hesitated at the entrance before stepping inside. Her little boy, who usually ran straight to the counter to greet Gurvi, stayed behind her, clutching her coat tightly. Gurvi's brows furrowed.

"Bonjour," Sabine greeted them with her usual warmth.

The woman returned the greeting, but her tone was stiff, forced. Without making eye contact with Gurvi, she reached into her purse, pulled out some money, and placed it on the counter.

"This is for the sweet you gave my son the other day," she said curtly.

Gurvi blinked, straightening slightly. "It was a gift. You don't have to—"

"I insist." Her voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

The boy peeked out from behind his mother's coat, his eyes uncertain as he looked at Gurvi. Just days ago, he had beamed at him, excitedly choosing his favorite treat. But now, there was hesitation—almost fear.

Gurvi felt a sharp sting in his chest. He forced a small smile, trying to ease whatever tension had built between them. "Did you like the sweet?" he asked gently.

The boy didn't respond. Instead, his mother placed a protective hand on his shoulder and gave a stiff nod. "We should get going," she murmured, quickly gathering her things.

As they left, the bell chimed again, but this time, it sounded heavier—like a door closing on something more than just a bakery visit.

Gurvi exhaled slowly, staring at the untouched money on the counter.

Sabine, who had been silently watching, placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Gurvi…" she began softly.

But he just shook his head, his jaw tightening. "I think I get it now," he murmured.

He had seen this before—the slow withdrawal, the avoidance, the hushed whispers. And this time, he had a sickening feeling that it wasn't going to stop anytime soon.