The next morning arrived with reluctant sunlight, trying to slip between the heavy curtains of Margo's bedroom. She sat at her vanity, brushing her hair as if it could smooth over the guilt still clinging to her heart like a second skin. Julia's face haunted her—especially the look in her eyes before she left.
Still, she had a role to play.
"Miss Margo, your car is ready," the butler called from outside her room.
"Coming!" she replied, fixing the last button of her crisp, custom-fitted uniform. Her tie was perfectly aligned, her hair glossy and braided loosely over one shoulder. Around her wrist was the diamond-studded watch her father gifted her for "being a good girl"—a phrase that tasted bitter now.
She stepped into the hallway with all the grace expected from the Wood family's only daughter.
In the backseat of the black SUV, the driver adjusted his mirror to glance at her.
"Miss Margo," he began cautiously, "I noticed Julia wasn't around this morning. Is she all right?"
Margo's throat tightened. Her first instinct was to tell the truth, but the fear of consequence clung to her like frost.
"She... took something from us," she said softly. "Father caught her. She left on her own."
"That doesn't sound like her at all."
"She was good at pretending," Margo replied coldly, turning to look out the window. "But I guess everyone has secrets."
The driver didn't respond. The rest of the ride passed in silence, and Margo's stomach churned with guilt. Julia had no secrets—but Margo did.
When she arrived at school, a chorus of gasps and whispers greeted her. Girls in pleated skirts and boys with untucked shirts stared from every corner. She stepped out of the car like royalty, her glossy shoes clicking on the pavement as she passed under the school shed.
"Margo! Over here!" Zara waved with two hands from their usual spot near the pillars. A few other girls huddled nearby, eyes filled with admiration—or envy.
"You look so stunning today," gushed one of them.
"Like, did you glow up again overnight?" another asked.
Margo offered a graceful smile. "It's just the new serum I tried," she lied. "Got it from Milan."
The hallway widened before her like a red carpet. She walked at the crowd parting like the sea. Her accessories sparkled in the sunlight filtering through the windows. Her perfume trailed behind her like a spell.
She entered her classroom just as the bell rang.
"Ah, Miss Wood," Miss Wilson said, adjusting her glasses. "As elegant as always. You brighten up the room, truly."
"Thank you, Miss," Margo said sweetly, sliding into her seat with practiced poise.
Behind her, a group of girls whispered loudly.
"She's so fake."
"I bet that thank you was scripted."
"She probably sleeps in makeup."
Margo didn't turn around. Instead, she raised her hand.
"Miss Wilson, I think some girls in the back are... disrupting the lesson."
The teacher narrowed her eyes.
"Ladies—if I hear one more word from you, you're out. Am I clear?"
The girls fell silent instantly, faces red.
Margo smirked to herself.
A few minutes later, Zara leaned in and whispered, "God, you were amazing. The way you just destroyed them with a single line."
"You know me," Margo replied with a wink.
They giggled softly—but that was enough.
Miss Wilson's head snapped toward them.
"Margo. Zara. Do you have something you'd like to share with the class?"
"No, ma'am," they replied in unison.
"Then save it for recess."
Snickers rose from the same group of girls in the back. One of them, Hailey, leaned over and mouthed, Karma.
Zara muttered, "I swear to God, I'm going to—"
Margo placed a calming hand on her arm. "Let it go. They're not worth it."
But Zara's jaw tightened.
By lunchtime, the tension hadn't faded. Margo walked into the cafeteria, and like always, heads turned. Students from different grades vied for her attention. Some waved, others offered spots at their tables. Boys stumbled over each other to impress her.
But Margo made her way to Zara without hesitation.
"They're still staring," Zara said as they sat down.
"Let them. They always do."
As they unwrapped their sandwiches, the air changed.
Hailey and her crew approached with fake smiles and too-perfect posture. In Hailey's hand was a large cup of iced blue soda.
"Oops," Hailey said sweetly, and before Margo could react, the freezing liquid splashed across her face and uniform.
The cafeteria erupted in gasps.
Phones came out. Cameras clicked. A flash here. A laugh there.
Zara jumped up.
"You bitch!" she screamed.
Hailey snickered, already backing up with her phone in hand. "You're just mad because we exposed your plastic queen."
Margo stood slowly, her soaked uniform clinging to her. She didn't cry. She didn't tremble.
Instead, she fixed her hair behind her ear and said in a chilling voice, "You know, Hailey, people like you peak in high school. You bully because it's the only power you'll ever have. Meanwhile, I'll be in Paris, sipping wine with my real friends. And you? Still here, working at the drive-thru with the same group of girls who secretly hate you."
The silence was immediate.
Then—laughter. Roars of it. Even from other tables.
Zara grabbed her tray and hurled the spaghetti onto Hailey's face.
Hailey screamed as the red sauce smeared over her foundation. "You freaks!"
Margo wiped the soda from her face with a napkin and walked away with Zara.
Fifteen minutes later, the intercom buzzed.
"Would Margo Wood and Zara Chen please report to the principal's office?"
Margo sighed. "Here we go."
In the principal's office, they sat across from Principal Mae—stern and never amused.
"Do you want to tell me what happened before I hear it from the others?" she asked, arms crossed.
Zara spoke first. "They attacked us. Threw a drink at Margo, filmed her, and laughed."
Margo nodded. "We just defended ourselves."
The door opened. Hailey entered with her mother, both looking outraged. Moments later, Mr. and Mrs. Wood entered, followed by Zara's mother.
"What happened?" Mrs. Wood demanded.
"They embarrassed my daughter in front of the whole school," Hailey's mother said. "She came home crying! Look at her shirt!"
"Your daughter assaulted mine with a soda first," Mrs. Wood snapped. "Don't play victim when your daughter is the aggressor."
Principal Mae raised a hand. "Please. I'll hear from each of them. But let's keep this civil."
Margo looked at her father, who stared down at her with narrowed eyes.
"Is this true, Margo?"
"Yes," she said. "But I didn't throw the food. Zara did."
Zara's mom gasped. "Zara!"
Zara muttered, "It was worth it."
Principal Mae sighed, rubbing her temples. "Given the situation, I'm assigning detention for everyone involved. Two weeks. No exceptions."
"What?!" Hailey shrieked. "We were the victims!"
"And I have the video," Margo replied, pulling her phone from her pocket. "It shows everything."
Everyone turned to her.
Hailey's face drained of color.
"You... you recorded it?" she whispered.
"I always do," Margo said calmly. "Security, remember?"
Hailey's mother's face turned red with embarrassment.
Principal Mae reached for the phone. "We'll review it. But for now, detention remains. And Hailey—there will be additional consequences if this video confirms your actions."
Outside the office, as they waited for the driver, Zara turned to Margo.
"You're like a goddess when you're mad."
Margo smiled faintly. "It's not about being mad. It's about knowing where to hurt."
They watched Hailey storm down the hallway, followed by her mom.