SECTION A — JAY'S POV — WHEN MONEY SPEAKS LOUDER THAN MORALS
I didn't look back when Keifer turned toward Section E.
I trusted him to hold the line there.
This part?
This was mine.
The Section A building always felt different—cleaner floors, quieter corridors, laughter that sounded rehearsed instead of real. Reputation lived here. So did entitlement.
I climbed the stairs without rushing.
Cold settled into my bones—not fear, not anger.
Focus.
I heard them before I saw them.
Laughter.
Too easy. Too light.
Like yesterday hadn't wrecked someone.
Mykel was leaning against the railing, wallet already back in his pocket like it was a trophy instead of a weapon.
Aries stood beside him, relaxed, amused.
Freya and Ella were perched on the bench, heads bent together, whispering and giggling like this was all just gossip.
A game.
I stopped a few feet away.
None of them noticed me at first.
Then Freya looked up.
Her smile faltered.
"Oh," she said. "It's her."
Mykel turned slowly.
His expression shifted—surprise, then something smug. "Well, look who's back from her little vacation."
I reached into my bag.
Pulled out a thick envelope.
Didn't say a word.
I stepped forward and threw it.
Bills exploded mid-air, scattering across his chest, his face, the floor.
The sound was sharp.
Final.
"Here," I said calmly. "The money you paid that bitch..."
The hallway went silent.
Mykel blinked, stunned for half a second—then laughed. "What the hell is this?"
"Your conscience," I replied. "Since you couldn't find it yesterday."
Aries straightened. "Hey—watch your mouth."
I looked at him.
Just looked.
He went quiet.
Freya scoffed. "You're acting like he committed a crime."
"He did," I said. "He bought a lie."
Mykel's smile hardened. "I solved a problem. You should thank me."
I took another step closer.
"You didn't solve anything," I said evenly. "You erased the truth because it was inconvenient."
Ella crossed her arms. "Cin's not exactly innocent-looking."
That did it.
I laughed.
Not loud.
Not amused.
"Say that again,I dare you." I said softly.
Ella hesitated.
Good.
Mykel bent down, picked up one of the bills, waved it casually. "Money talks, Jay. You should know that better than anyone."
I tilted my head. "You think this was power?"
He smirked. "It ended the mess."
"No," I said. "It crowned you."
His brow furrowed. "What?"
"You crowned yourself judge," I continued. "Jury. Executioner. You decided who was guilty without proof—because you could."
Aries shifted beside him. Freya's eyes flicked to her phone.
Recording.
I saw it.
I didn't stop.
"Let me be very clear," I said. "What you did didn't make you a hero."
Mykel stepped closer. "You threatening me?"
I smiled.
That was a mistake.
"No," I said. "I'm documenting you."
His smirk faltered. "You walked into our building."
"And you walked into someone else's life," I replied. "And trashed it."
Freya chimed in sweetly, "You're overreacting. It's just money."
I turned to her slowly.
"If it's just money," I said, "then why did you all look so proud handing it over?"
Silence.
The kind that scratches.
Mykel tossed the bill back at me. "Take it and calm down."
I didn't catch it.
It fell between us.
"Keep it," I said. "You'll need it."
"For what?" Aries asked.
"For lawyers," I replied calmly. "Or therapy. Depending on how this ends."
Mykel laughed again—but this time it didn't reach his eyes. "You think you're scary?"
"No," I said. "I think you're sloppy."
That landed.
Freya's phone was still angled just right.
I looked straight at the lens.
Perfect.
"Post it," I said. "I dare you."
Her hand twitched.
I leaned in slightly, voice dropping. "Because every version of this story ends with the same truth."
Mykel scoffed. "And what truth is that?"
I stepped back.
Straightened.
"Money doesn't erase guilt," I said. "It exposes it."
Then I turned.
And walked away.
Behind me, I heard it—the sharp inhale, the muttered curse, the faint click of a screen uploading.
Let them post it.
Let them twist it.
Because unlike yesterday—
This time?
I was ready.
And somewhere down the hall, Section E was waiting.
Not loud.
Not reckless.
Just alive.
And done asking for permission.
SECTION E — JAY'S POV — WHEN LOYALTY STANDS STILL
The moment I stepped back into Section E, I felt it.
The shift.
Every single one of them was glued to their phones—screens glowing, jaws tight, shoulders hunched inward like a pack bracing for impact.
The video was already everywhere.
I didn't need to see it to know.
Whispers crawled through the room, but no one spoke out loud. Calix stood near the desks, arms crossed. Yuri leaned against the wall, unreadable but alert. Felix sat on a table, knuckles white around his phone. Keifer was near the window—still, controlled, eyes dark.
They weren't watching the video.
They were watching me.
I walked forward anyway.
Slow. Unhurried. Like the room wasn't buzzing with speculation and judgment.
Like I hadn't just set fire to a building full of entitled liars.
Phones lowered one by one as I passed.
No one asked.
No one accused.
They just parted.
Cin stood near his desk.
He hadn't been on his phone.
He was staring at the floor.
When I moved past him, he finally spoke.
"Jay."
I stopped.
The room held its breath.
"Why did you do that?" he asked.
His voice wasn't angry.
It was scared.
I turned to face him.
He looked wrecked—eyes rimmed red, shoulders tense, hands shaking like he was holding himself together by sheer force of will.
"You paid them back," he continued, words tumbling now.
"You threw the money at them like it was—like it was yours to fix. Now everyone's gonna say you're covering for me. They'll blame you too, Jay. They'll say it's proof. That I really did it."
His voice cracked on the last word.
The room went dead silent.
Keifer took a step forward instinctively.
I lifted a hand slightly.
Not yet.
I walked back to Cin.
Stopped right in front of him.
"Let them," I said calmly.
He blinked. "What?"
"Let them talk," I repeated. "Let them twist it. Let them make noise."
His head shook, panic rising. "Jay, you don't understand—"
"No," I said gently. "You don't."
I leaned in just enough that only he could hear me.
"I don't care what they say about me."
His breath stuttered.
"I can handle rumors," I continued quietly. "I can handle hate. Screenshots. Lies. I live with them. I always have."
I straightened.
"But I will not—" my voice hardened, "—stand there and let them drag your name through the dirt when I know you didn't do it."
His lips trembled.
"I can take it," I added softly. "You shouldn't have to."
Something in his face collapsed.
All that bravado. All that noise he used to hide behind.
Gone.
"Why?" he whispered. "Why would you risk that for me?"
I didn't hesitate.
"Because you're mine," I said simply. "And I protect what's mine."
His eyes filled instantly.
Before anyone could react, he stepped forward and hugged me.
Hard.
Like he was afraid if he let go, he'd fall apart completely.
I froze for half a second—
Then wrapped my arms around him.
The room stayed silent.
No teasing.
No commentary.
Just understanding.
Cin buried his face into my shoulder, shoulders shaking. "I didn't do it," he murmured, broken. "I swear I didn't."
"I know," I said again, hand firm on his back. "I never doubted you."
Keifer looked away.
Yuri exhaled slowly.
Calix clenched his jaw.
This—this was what Section E looked like when pushed too far.
Not chaos.
Unity.
I pulled back slightly, keeping my hands on Cin's shoulders.
"You're coming with me," I said.
His eyes widened. "Where?"
"Home," I replied. "You're not staying here today."
"But—"
"No buts," I said. "You're done being a spectacle."
I grabbed my bag, then looked at the rest of them.
"Don't engage," I said calmly. "Screenshots only. Save everything."
Keifer nodded immediately. "I've already started."
I met his eyes.
A silent exchange passed between us.
Good.
Cin wiped his face hastily, embarrassed. "I—I don't want to be a problem."
I squeezed his shoulder. "You're not."
Then, quieter: "They are."
We walked out together.
Heads turned in the hallway.
Phones lifted.
Whispers sparked again.
I didn't flinch.
Cin stayed close, like the noise might swallow him if he didn't.
At the parking lot, I unlocked my car and opened the passenger door for him.
"Get in."
He hesitated. "Jay—"
I looked at him. "Trust me."
He did.
As I drove away, the school shrinking in the rearview mirror, my phone buzzed once.
A message from Keifer.
✉️ Keifer:
I've got the rest. Go.
I replied without looking away from the road.
✉️ Me:
Always do.
Cin leaned back in the seat, exhausted.
For the first time since yesterday—
He wasn't alone.
And whoever thought this was over?
They'd just made their biggest mistake.
Because rumors were loud.
But truth?
Truth had patience.
And I had time...