By Thursday morning, the academy felt like a shaken beehive. Students were everywhere, clustering in corners, shouting in the halls, their voices bouncing off the old stone walls.
"This is ridiculous! What safety issue? What are they hiding?" someone yelled near the food hall.
"They could've at least explained instead of cancelling everything!" another snapped, their frustration sharp enough to cut glass.
I tightened my grip on my books, weaving through the chaos. "They're going to rip the headmaster apart if this keeps up," I muttered. Which I low-key wouldn't mind since...
That day I went snooping around.
Freya walked beside me, her face scrunched in annoyance. "Ugh, I can't deal with this energy right now. Can't they just… chill?"
"They did cancel the festival," I reminded her.
"Yeah, but this isn't helping anyone," she said, nodding toward a group of students waving signs like mini-protesters and chanting, "We want answers!"
