The festival ended in a blaze of lights and laughter, but by the next morning, its echoes took a darker shape.
Students whispered in corridors, voices hushed but eager.
"Did you see Emily's face when Hannah sang?""I swear I saw her smirking when the dress ripped—like she wanted it to happen.""No way, Emily wouldn't do that… would she?"
Rumors spread like wildfire, and though Emily still walked the halls with her chin high, the weight of the stares clung to her like smoke.
Sara and Lina sat with Hannah in the courtyard, basking in the soft sunlight. Hannah was radiant, her cheeks flushed not with embarrassment but with joy.
"I still can't believe they clapped like that," she said dreamily, hugging her notebook. "It felt like… like I was flying."
"You deserved every bit of it," Lina said warmly. "All the hours you practiced, all the courage it took — you showed them the real Hannah."
Sara smiled but didn't relax. Her eyes wandered, scanning the clusters of students. Some glanced their way with admiration, others with envy, and a few with coldness.
Enemies didn't vanish with one victory. They only waited for the next strike.
Across campus, Emily stormed into the music room, slamming the door behind her.
Her entourage followed hesitantly, exchanging uneasy glances.
"Everyone's talking," one of them muttered. "They're saying you—"
"Shut up!" Emily snapped, her voice sharp as broken glass. She paced, her golden gown from the festival still folded neatly on the chair like a mocking reminder.
"I had it all planned," she hissed. "And yet she stood there like nothing happened. Adrian—" She cut herself off, rage twisting her expression.
She hadn't expected Sara's friends to interfere. That mistake burned.
Later that afternoon, Daniel found Sara beneath the shade of the old garden tree.
"You're unusually quiet," he remarked, lowering himself onto the bench beside her.
Sara didn't look at him right away. "I can't stop thinking about last night. It wasn't just Emily. Someone helped her. Someone stronger, more calculating. That dress sabotage was too… precise."
Daniel's gaze sharpened. "Grace."
Sara nodded slowly. "It feels like her hand. She wouldn't risk exposing herself, but Emily? She's the perfect puppet."
Daniel leaned back, studying the branches above them. "If that's true, then this isn't just about school drama anymore. It's family politics. And family wars are always bloodier."
Sara's throat tightened. She had always known her stepmother was dangerous, but hearing Daniel put it into words made it heavier — more real.
Meanwhile, in the dorm common room, Adrian and Ryan debated in their usual fiery way.
"You should've exposed her right there," Ryan said, tossing a ball into the air. "Called her out in front of the entire audience. Boom — reputation destroyed."
Adrian snorted. "And look like we were picking a fight? Please. Subtlety, my friend. That's how you win wars."
"You mean sneaking around like a fox?" Ryan shot back.
"Better than charging like a bull."
Leo, stretched out lazily on the couch, finally spoke. "Both of you are idiots. Sara doesn't need brawls or tricks — she needs allies who can play the long game. Emily's already unraveling. Push too hard and she'll just fight dirtier."
Ryan frowned. "So what, we just let her keep trying?"
Leo's smile was faint, almost cold. "No. We let her try. And then we make sure every attempt blows up in her face."
That night, Grace summoned Emily to her private study.
The girl entered nervously, bowing her head. Grace didn't look up immediately, her hands resting on a delicate porcelain teacup.
"You disappointed me," Grace said finally, her tone soft but cutting.
Emily stiffened. "I—I tried. She should've been humiliated—"
"Should have," Grace interrupted smoothly. "But she wasn't. Which means you failed. And in this world, Emily, failure has consequences."
Emily's knees shook. She had always admired Grace's elegance, her poise. But tonight, the older woman radiated something colder — the quiet, suffocating menace of power.
"I'll fix it," Emily whispered quickly. "I promise. Just give me another chance."
Grace finally lifted her eyes, sharp as blades. "Do not promise me, Emily. Prove it."
Back in Sara's room, Hannah hummed softly, scribbling lyrics into her notebook. Lina braided her hair absentmindedly while Sara stared at the night sky from the balcony.
Her father's voice drifted in her memory — warm, distant, unreachable. She thought of her mother, the pieces of truth still hidden, and Grace's looming shadow.
The festival had been a victory, but one glance at the stars reminded her: every light attracted darkness.
And the darker it grew, the more careful she would have to be.
Sara clenched the railing. "If Grace wants war, then she'll get it. But this time, I won't be the one losing everything."
Behind her, Hannah's laughter filled the room, Lina humming along. For one fragile moment, it felt like home. But Sara knew better.
Peace was temporary. The whispers had only just begun.