I didn't even make it through lunch.
Halfway through a dry sandwich, my phone buzzed with a short message:
"Report to the Academic Office. Immediately."
I froze. My stomach flipped.
This was it.
Mr. Unknown had made his move.
I showed Erica the message. Her face darkened.
"You're not going alone," she said.
But I shook my head. "I'll be fine. I need to handle this myself."
She hesitated, then finally nodded. "Text me as soon as you're done."
The walk to the academic block felt longer than usual. Every step echoed too loudly, my hands cold even though the sun was blazing.
Inside the office, a woman in glasses barely looked up. "Name?"
"Racheal Addison."
She checked a list, then pointed toward an inner room. "Second door. They're waiting."
Waiting.
I didn't know who they were—but with the way my heart was pounding, I half expected a firing squad.
I knocked softly and pushed the door open.
Inside sat Professor Carter, another lecturer I didn't recognize, and someone from student affairs.
"Have a seat," Carter said flatly.
I obeyed, hiding my trembling hands in my lap.
"We received a report," the woman from student affairs began, "that you may have been involved in a recent incident involving the public humiliation of a staff member."
There it was.
I kept my face neutral. "I'm not sure I understand."
Carter leaned forward. "A video was circulated. A prank. Embarrassing, childish—and not something we take lightly."
My throat went dry.
"I didn't send any video," I said carefully.
"But were you involved in the incident itself?"
I paused.
It was a trap. If I admitted anything, it would be twisted.
"I'd like to see the video before I say anything," I replied.
The three of them exchanged glances.
Smart move? Or did I just dig myself deeper?
I left the office with my heart pounding, my mind racing.
They didn't say much after the video. Only that the case was under review, that they'd call me again—
and that they'd be reaching out to Margaret.
I almost laughed.
Reach out to her?
She was probably in our room right now—acting innocent, gossiping about my so-called drama—without realizing what was coming her way.
But I didn't head straight to the hostel.
I needed to breathe.
An hour later, I pushed open the door to find Margaret at the mirror, applying lip gloss like nothing was wrong.
She glanced at me through the mirror. "Oh. You're back."
I didn't answer. Just dropped my bag on the bed and sat down.
She turned, hands on her hips. "So? What did they say? Are they suspending you?"
"No. Not yet," I said. "They're still reviewing it."
"Hmm," she replied, feigning disinterest. "Well, good luck with that."
I met her eyes. "Funny. You didn't look so uninterested in the video."
Her expression faltered. "What?"
"You're in the video too, Margaret. Laughing. Right beside me."
She blinked. "You're lying."
"I saw it. On their tablet. They played it right in front of me."
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
"They saw me?" she finally whispered.
"Crystal clear."
She sucked in a shaky breath. "No… I didn't know it was serious. I didn't plan it!"
"But you were there. Laughing. Just like me."
Margaret sank onto her bed, her face suddenly pale.
"They're calling you next," I added calmly. "Better come up with a good explanation."
Her eyes widened. "You told them it was me?"
I stood, my voice low and sharp. "I didn't need to. The video did that on its own."
Silence. Heavy. Tense.
For the first time, Margaret didn't look angry, smug, or manipulative.
She looked scared.
I picked up my book and walked toward the door.
As I stepped out, I said without looking back,
"Next time you betray someone, make sure you're not standing beside them in the evidence."