The lights died at 7:03. Not a blink. Full blackout. In Queen's Crest that kind of outage never felt accidental. Sounded more of a warning than an outage.
Toni stood in front of her mirror half-ready in her House Ceremony outfit, silver embroidery catching the last of the light. She didn't flinch. She pulled a little flashlight from her drawer like it was second nature.
Three soft knocks at her door. It was Measured and Calm. The knock had this urgency it carried, not some 'I need help, please. Could you lend me your lipgloss, the Rhode one?'
She opened it. Charlotte stood there, perfect posture, like she'd been taught to hold secrets before she could tie her shoes. Charlotte didn't speak. She just handed over a plain envelope stamped with no crest, no return. Only those words, scrawled in someone else's hurry: For your eyes alone. You deserve to know what loyalty costs.
Toni closed the door and slit the paper open at her desk. Inside were four glossy photos that rearranged her stomach as she looked.
Photo one: Amara leaning close to Ralene in the archives, pages spread, whisper-level conversation. Photo two: Adrian and Headmistress Nwachukwu on the amphitheater bench at dusk, their shoulders close in a way that said they weren't just talking about homework. Photo three: a blurred record page, title clear enough: Asset Index Providence Candidates. Photo four: Toni herself, side-by-side with her cousin, timestamped last year, taken in an office she had never seen.
Her throat tightened. Someone didn't just want to scare her. Someone wanted her to choose.
She hit the burner, thumb shaking. Amara picked up on the second ring.
"You saw them?" Toni said before hello.
Amara answered calm, almost bored. "I saw enough."
"Did you send them?"
"No. I thought we were past this."
"Then who?" Toni asked.
A breath. "Ralene. Or someone trying to start a war."
Toni stared at her own face in the photo. It looked like a stranger's. "Feels like a threat."
"It is," Amara said. "Don't look surprised, Toni. We live in a house of mirrors."
---
Down in the underground lab Adrian and a couple of seniors had turned into a halfway-decent newsroom, the Project Providence files made everyone move faster. Screens glowed. Cables snaked. Coffee cups teetered on sticky keyboards.
"We need to verify the names," Neil said, fingers flying. "The doc lists student numbers, not names. If we cross-check login histories-"
"No time," Adrian interrupted. "We drop tonight."
Neil hesitated. "There's a list marked Expendable. It's ugly."
Adrian leaned in. "Show me."
The file opened. One line burned bright on the screen.
Amara Okonkwo. High Risk slash Unpredictable. Contain or neutralize.
Cold spread through Adrian like ice water. He closed his fist around the edge of the desk. "Print everything. Encrypt it. Get it to her now."
Neil nodded, already moving. "And the rest?"
"We go public with the scraps. Let the rest burn." Adrian didn't sound dramatic. He sounded tired.
---
Across town the Board held an emergency call. Faces in small boxes. Voices clipped and careful. The Chairwoman cleared her throat.
"The Providence archive has been compromised," she said.
"We underestimated Maduako," someone replied.
"And the Okonkwo girl," another voice added.
"Do we trigger Protocol Zero?" someone asked.
Pause. Silence like a held breath.
"Not yet," the Chairwoman decided. "Let them panic. Let them reveal themselves. When the water calms, we strike."
It ended with that practiced calm that made Toni's photo feel like a warning and Adrian's anger feel like a countdown. Somebody was playing chess and the pieces were already moving.