They didn't come for Adrian at night. That would have been too obvious.
They came for him during Literature class.
Two men in grey suits and thin-rimmed glasses waited outside the classroom. They didn't say a word to the teacher. Just motioned. Adrian stood up without hesitation, leaving his copy of Things Fall Apart open on his desk.
The classroom held its breath.
He left.
---
Toni Wuraola had seen enough crime thrillers to know that silence was its own kind of violence.
She didn't like this quiet.
Not when the school halls seemed freshly polished and the security guards stood straighter than usual. Something was happening. Something beyond disciplinary committee meetings or academic scandals.
And when she found Ralene hunched over a school map in the empty science lab, Toni knew her instinct wasn't wrong.
"They moved him," Ralene said without looking up. "Adrian's been taken to the basement quarters. You know what that means, don't you?"
Toni nodded slowly. "The Providence evaluation."
---
Author's Note (In-between clarity)
Dear Reader,
If you're wondering what "Project Providence" truly is, you're not alone.
Project Providence was a covert program started in 2002 by a coalition of powerful elite families and corporate entities who supported Queen's Crest and a few other elite schools across the continent. The aim? To identify and train individuals with high leadership potential, obedience to hierarchy, emotional control, and strategic thinking.
The girls (and recently, boys) chosen were unaware they were being monitored. From the moment they entered the school, everything was data: their responses to stress, grief, failure, jealousy. Diaries, CCTV, false flag incidents, planted friendships. All to see: who can lead, and who can be led.
Those marked as unfit were pushed out quietly through expulsion, scandal, or in rare cases... disappearance.
Adrian's leak of the original Providence documents broke a code older than the school itself.
So now, they want him silent.
Back to the story...
---
Amara stood by the old art studio, heart thudding. She didn't want to believe Ralene's message, but the school had gone too still. There were no announcements, no fire drills, and no sign of Adrian. It had been six hours.
She made her decision.
She would go down there.
There was a service door near the music block. Ralene had marked it on the map. It led beneath the school, to the old bomb shelter from the civil war days. Now, it was used as detention quarters for "special cases."
Amara snuck through with a small torchlight in her boot and a fire extinguisher in her hand. She wasn't stupid. If they caught her, she wouldn't go down quietly.
---
Adrian sat alone in a padded room with mirrored walls. There were no clocks and windows. Just questions.
The man across from him wore gloves and a smile that didn't touch his eyes.
"Why did you do it?"
Adrian didn't speak.
"Was it for glory? Or rebellion?"
Still nothing.
The man leaned forward. "Do you think this school exists to babysit rich children? We craft futures here. Prime Ministers. CEOs. Puppet masters."
Adrian finally met his gaze. "I'd rather be a person than a puppet."
The man chuckled. "You'll be neither if you keep this up."
---
Amara found the corridor.
It smelled like bleach and fear.
She saw the door with the letter "P" stamped on it. She pressed her ear to it.
Nothing.
Then a shuffle. A cough. She raised the extinguisher and stepped in.
Adrian sat slumped in the chair, wrists free but eyes dull.
She rushed to him. "Hey! Hey, it's me. We need to go. Now."
He blinked. Recognition returned.
Then he stood.
"They know everything now, Amara. Even about your father."
She froze.
"What about my father?"
Before he could answer, the door slammed behind them.
A voice echoed from a hidden speaker:
"You shouldn't have come here. Now you both stay."
---
End of Chapter Thirty.