The principal's hand came down on my shoulder, firm enough to stop me from moving.
"Miss Winter," he said quietly, "that's enough. Sit down. We need to talk."
I turned toward him, tears already sliding down my face. My chest felt tight, like there wasn't enough air in the room. For a moment, he looked almost sympathetic.
Then his expression hardened.
"Miss Winter," he continued, his voice low and dangerous, "I want you to listen very carefully to everything I am about to say and cooperate fully. Unless you want to cause your own death, and the deaths of everyone else."
The words froze me.
The question slipped out before I could stop myself. "Will the royal family kill me? And everyone else?"
He stared at me for a long moment before answering. "No. Not the royal family."
My breath hitched.
"The United Nations," he said calmly. "The Western powers. Every other country in the world. If they discover that the Crown Prince of Valeria or anyone else here possesses abilities beyond what is human, they will come for this country. And they will not stop until Valeria is erased."
My hands began to shake.
"We have helped them in secret before," he continued. "And sometimes not even in secret. But they will forget all of that the moment they realize superpowers exist. They will assume everyone has them. Especially you students of Crestwood Academy."
His eyes locked onto mine. "You would not be heroes, Miss Winter. You would be victims. Locked in laboratories. Studied. Experimented on. Your entire lives reduced to data."
The room felt smaller. Hotter.
"If not for yourself," he added, "then cooperate for your family."
That was the final blow.
It felt like standing in the middle of a cage, surrounded by hungry animals, with no exit in sight. Fight, and everyone I loved would suffer. Run, and there would be nowhere to go.
Everything suddenly made sense.
Still, one question burned too strongly to ignore.
"Then why," I asked quietly, "didn't her powers work on me?"
For the first time since he entered the room, the principal hesitated.
"We suspect," he said slowly, "that you may have abilities of your own."
My blood ran cold.
"And that," he continued, "is exactly why you must not expose this. If you do, you will not just endanger yourself. You will endanger everyone you love."
I thought of my family. My parents. My sister. The way they looked at me every morning, proud, trusting, unaware of how close danger truly was.
I couldn't lose them.
I lowered my head and nodded. "I'll cooperate."
Relief flickered across his face, followed by something that looked dangerously close to satisfaction.
"Good," he said. He reached into a drawer and handed me a thin file. "This is the story your classmates shared with the press. Study it. Memorize it. You may be questioned about today's events."
I took the file with trembling hands. "Thank you," I muttered.
I stood up and walked out of the office, my steps heavy, my mind racing.
I had just agreed to bury the truth.
For now.
Because I loved my life. And I loved the people in it.
But one way or another, I would find a way out.