It was in the stillness of the following day that Queen's Crest truly began to split apart.
Not through visible cracks or rebellions, but through something far more sinister: silence. The kind that replaced laughter in the halls, dulled footsteps, and turned every eye into a question.
A new set of rules had been sent out via email. A curfew at 6:00 p.m. All club activities suspended. Phones were to be submitted by 5:45 p.m. to the dorm supervisors. No explanation. No exceptions.
Adrian didn't bother handing his phone in.
Neither did Toni.
And Amara? She didn't even return to her dorm.
---
Instead, she sat in the south tower, one of the few places untouched by the school's sudden reform. Her back pressed against the old stone wall, the scent of rust and ink filling her nose. She flipped through pages of Project Providence, marking lines in red. Ralene sat beside her, now more alert than ever.
"The further back we go, the more names disappear," Ralene murmured, flipping to the early pages. "Look here, 2007, 2003, 1998. The records just… vanish."
"Or were never meant to be seen," Amara said.
A sudden wind creaked the old glass pane beside them. Both girls flinched.
Ralene leaned forward, whispering, "Do you think Toni knows?"
Amara didn't answer.
She was thinking of a different name.
Ina.
The girl who burned the statue.
---
Ina sat in the school infirmary, hands wrapped in gauze, lips cracked and dry. The nurse had given her something to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. Not after what she saw.
The statue hadn't bled, no.
But the flame, it hadn't behaved like fire. It curved, coiled. It moved like it had purpose.
And when it touched her, it didn't burn.
It whispered.
---
Back in the Headmistress's office, Toni sat alone. She'd demanded a meeting. Requested, formally, with her signature.
The Headmistress did not arrive.
Instead, a woman in a crisp navy suit entered. Short, angular hair. A lanyard with no name, only a crest that resembled the Queen's Crest logo except it was twisted, and sharper.
"You're Toni Wuraola, correct?"
"I requested a meeting with the Headmistress."
"She's unavailable. I represent the Providence Oversight Board."
Toni raised a brow. "Never heard of it."
The woman smiled thinly. "You weren't meant to."
She placed a file on the table. Slid it toward Toni.
"Your application to Yale was fast-tracked. Full ride. Communications major. Congratulations."
Toni didn't touch it.
"You're buying me off."
"We're offering you a future. One with less… distraction."
Toni stood. "Tell your board that Queen's Crest isn't for sale."
"We don't need to buy it," the woman said, standing slowly. "We built it."
---
Adrian, meanwhile, sat in the chapel. Not praying. Just sitting.
The stained-glass window before him caught the last rays of sunset, painting him in violet and gold.
He held a letter in his hands. Not from his father.
From someone else.
The initials: L.M.
"Meet me in the East Field. 2:30 a.m. Don't bring anyone. Don't tell anyone."
He should've thrown it away. But something about those initials gnawed at him.
L.M.
---
At midnight, Queen's Crest looked like a locked-down fortress. Security doubled. Teachers rotated on night patrol.
Still, two figures moved beneath the radar.
Amara and Ralene, cloaked in black hoodies, moved through the underground tunnels beneath the dormitory block. The map they'd stolen from the old construction logs had shown a sublevel one never completed.
Ralene carried the flashlight. Amara had the bolt cutter.
They reached a sealed door.
Ralene stared. "This wasn't supposed to be here."
Amara placed her hand on the rusted metal. "Then it's definitely what we're looking for."
---
At 2:30 a.m., Adrian stood at the edge of the East Field. The grass was wet. The sky overcast.
A figure appeared.
Not L.M.
It was a boy. Short hair, glasses. Nervous energy.
"You're not who I was expecting," Adrian said.
The boy handed him a USB drive.
"L.M. is gone. Left last semester. But he told me if things ever got bad again, I should give you this."
"What's on it?"
"Everything."
---
End of Chapter Twenty-Five.