The morning sun was out, but it carried no warmth.
Not for me. Not today.
I hadn't slept much. Every creak in the hallway, every buzz from my phone made me jolt awake. I was exhausted—not just from lack of sleep, but from the weight pressing down on me. Waiting. Dreading.
And then it came.
A sharp knock on my door. Short. Official.
I opened it slowly, already knowing what I'd see.
A staff member stood there, face unreadable. "You're to report to the office. Now."
No explanation. No time to prepare.
I grabbed my ID card and followed, my feet moving on their own. The corridor outside was too quiet for a school morning. As if even the walls sensed what was coming.
At the office block, I hesitated at the entrance. The staff member didn't wait—just held the door open.
And there she was.
Margaret Garcia.
Already seated. Her eyes were swollen, like she'd been crying—or pretending she had. Her hands twisted in her lap. She didn't look up when I entered.
I sat beside her, leaving a small gap—as if distance could shield me from the mess we were drowning in.
Moments later, Professor Carter walked in, flanked by two staff members. One carried a clipboard, face set like stone.
This wasn't just a warning.
This was official.
Professor Carter sat behind the desk, his gaze heavy on us.
"You know why you're here."
Neither of us spoke.
He continued, voice sharp. "A video surfaced yesterday. Both your faces are clearly visible. You were warned before about misconduct. This isn't a prank—it's a violation."
Margaret finally looked up, her voice trembling. "I didn't upload it."
Carter raised a hand. "We're not asking who uploaded it. We're asking why you were involved at all. Who planned it? Who recorded it? And how did it get out?"
My pulse hammered. Margaret's eyes flicked toward me, but I refused to meet them.
"I want the truth," Carter pressed. "Because if you keep playing games, this will escalate. You're both on thin ice."
Margaret's voice cracked. "I didn't mean for it to go this far. It was supposed to be a joke… just a prank."
My jaw tightened. A joke? She was painting herself as the victim now.
"A joke that involved impersonation, manipulation, and public humiliation?" Carter snapped. "That's not a prank. That's a serious breach of our code of conduct."
The woman with the clipboard spoke next, her tone clipped.
"We'll be reviewing your records and interviewing other students. Depending on what we find, this may go to the disciplinary board."
Margaret's hands shook. My fists curled under the desk.
"I didn't start this," I said finally. "You should know that."
Carter's gaze locked on me. "Then tell us who did."
I hesitated.
Because Margaret wasn't alone.
There was still him.
Mr. Unknown.
Watching. Waiting. Pulling strings.
But saying his name would make me sound paranoid—like I was blaming a ghost.
"I don't know," I muttered.
Carter leaned back, disappointment etched in his face. "Then we'll proceed without your cooperation. That may not work in your favor."
The silence that followed was its own punishment.
Finally, he dismissed us. "You'll be informed of the next steps. In the meantime, stay away from each other."
We stood.
Margaret looked like she wanted to speak—explain, beg—but I walked out before she could.
Out of the office.
Down the stairs.
Into the blinding sunlight.
But the brightness didn't feel like freedom.
It felt like exposure.
Like everyone could see me now.
And worse… judge me.