They called it Monday, but it felt like Judgment Day.... One of the worst days, on planet earth. But awkwardly, everyday was a worst day in Queen's Crest Academy.
At exactly 7:00 a.m., the alarms screamed across Queen's Crest. Not the gentle chime for morning prep. Not the polite bell for breakfast.
This was different, sharp, metallic, heart-stopping. The kind of sound that makes your soul tense before your body catches up.
Girls poured out of their dorms, half-dressed, wide-eyed. Some in bonnets, some barefoot.
Adrian snatched his phone, didn't even check it, and bolted down the west stairwell two steps at a time.
Then came the announcement, it was static first, then the Headmistress's voice, tight and breathless:
"All students, report to the auditorium. Immediately."
No one dared to ask why.
Within twenty minutes, the entire student body was packed inside. The curtains were drawn. The stage stood bare except for a single podium and a tall projector screen behind it, humming with static.
Headmistress Nwachukwu entered like a storm in heels flanked by four black-suited guards. Her face was carved from exhaustion. Behind her came a row of parents, the important ones. People who didn't attend PTA meetings; they owned PTA meetings. Ministers. CEOs. The kinds of names that made newspapers bow.
The air itself was heavy.
Amara sat in the front row, arms crossed, face unreadable.
Toni was nowhere to be seen.
Adrian stood by the emergency exit, watching, waiting.
The Headmistress didn't bother with pleasantries.
"The integrity of Queen's Crest," she began, voice steady, "has been compromised. As of this morning, a full institutional audit is underway—starting immediately."
A ripple went through the room.
Murmurs. Gasps. A cough somewhere in the back.
Then, a man emerged from the shadows. He was bald, angular, wearing a suit that probably cost more than a teacher's salary.
"I am Chief Morohunmbe," he said into the mic, voice deep and smooth. "Independent Special Prosecutor, appointed by the Federal Board of Education. I have been granted full authority to review records, detain suspects, and investigate allegations of corruption, misconduct, and abuse dating back to this school's founding."
You could've heard a heartbeat drop.
Then without warning the projector flared to life.
Footage started playing.
Security cam clips. Grainy, timestamped. Voices raised. Bribes exchanged. A girl slapping a staff member. A male teacher crying in the Headmistress's office.
And there, Adrian arguing with his father.
Gasps. Whispers.
Then the screen froze on Toni.
Standing in the chapel. Alone. Crying.
No one moved.
A Minister's wife stood, shaking. "Why was this not reported?"
Someone else muttered, "Because your daughter was in it too."
Then louder: "All of ours were."
And just like that, chaos detonated.
Parents shouting. Students sobbing. One fainted. Another vomited. The guards tried to restore order, but the crowd had already broken.
Until Amara rose.
"Enough!"
The word cut like a blade. The noise fell away.
She looked straight at the adults, voice steady, eyes blazing.
"This school runs on secrets. On favors. On bloodlines. You all knew something was wrong. You might not have known what, but you knew. And you let it rot because it benefited you. Because your daughters were safe while others disappeared."
A tremor of whispers.
"No more," she said.
Adrian stepped forward, his voice lower, heavier.
"This isn't about one girl. It's about all of them. About the rot beneath the crest, the legacy. The founders."
The projector flickered. Then blacked out.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Then slowly, someone began to clap.
One person. Calm. Deliberate.
Dr. Hajara.
She smiled.
"Finally," she said softly. "Now we begin."
---
Author's Note – Oh, We're in the Fire Now 🔥
Hey, chaos-lovers. Yeah, I warned you. This one hurt.
I wanted Chapter Sixteen to feel like being trapped in that auditorium confused, angry, heart pounding, with nowhere to hide. This is the chapter where the mask comes off and the real war begins.
The parents are in. The world is watching. And Queen's Crest? She's cracking down the middle.
Shoutout to the people flooding my inbox with theories about Toni some of you are terrifyingly close. And whoever guessed the 2009 connection? You scare me. But also… you're my favorite kind of reader 😏
Anyway, deep breaths. We're just getting started.
Now let's go outside, shall we?
---
Outside, chaos had found its rhythm.
The gates were lined with reporters. Cameras flashing. A helicopter hovered above the school like a vulture with a lens. Police vans glowed blue and red against the rising sun.
Inside the infirmary, Toni sat on the edge of her bed, hands trembling. The nurse beside her spoke softly, offering a glass of water. Toni didn't even blink.
"Your parents are on their way," the nurse whispered.
But Toni wasn't listening.
In her head, the tunnels played on repeat, the red velvet room, the old ledger, the list of names.
Her name.
And beside it, a red star.
The door opened quietly. Adrian slipped in. Said nothing. Just pulled a chair up beside her. They sat in silence, staring at the wall like it might answer for everything.
Finally, Toni spoke barely above a whisper.
"I was supposed to disappear, wasn't I?"
Adrian nodded once.
"Then why didn't you let me?"
He turned to her, eyes tired but soft.
"Because you were the only one who wasn't pretending."
The words hung between them, it was heavy, unshakable.
Outside, the sirens wailed again.
Queen's Crest wasn't just falling apart.
It was awakening.