Chapter 21
Elara
The murmurs did not stop after Victoria's declaration. They grew. Louder. More confident.
I sat at my desk in the back row. Opened my SAT math workbook. Stared at the practice problems until the numbers blurred together.
Just get through this class. Just make it to the bell.
But Victoria was not finished.
She turned in her seat. Loud enough for the entire front section to hear. "I heard certain people write his name all over their notebooks. Like some obsessed stalker."
Brittany giggled. Madison leaned forward. "Really? That's so pathetic."
I kept my eyes on the workbook. Derivative problems. Chain rule. Focus on the chain rule.
Victoria stood up.
Ms. Rivera looked up from her desk. "Miss Vane, please take your seat. Class is starting in—"
"I just need to borrow something from Elara." Victoria's voice was all fake sweetness. She walked toward my desk. Her designer flats clicked against the floor tiles. "You don't mind, do you?"
She reached for my canvas bag before I could answer. Her fingers closed around the strap.
I pressed my hand down on the bag. "Victoria. Don't."
"What are you hiding?" She pulled harder. "Let me see."
"Sit down." My voice was low. Controlled. "Class is starting."
"Girls." Ms. Rivera stood up. "Both of you. Stop this immediately."
But Victoria's friends had already formed a wall between us and the teacher's desk. Phones appeared. Recording lights blinked red.
Victoria yanked the bag. I held on. The strap dug into my palm.
Then she pulled hard enough that the bag slipped off the desk edge.
Everything spilled across the floor. Books. Pens. My sketchbook. And a small bundle wrapped in dark blue velvet cloth.
The bundle rolled toward the leg of my desk.
Victoria's eyes locked onto it. She bent down to pick it up.
"Don't touch that."
I lunged forward. Grabbed for her wrist.
She jerked back. The velvet cloth fell away.
My father's pocket watch tumbled out of her hands.
It hit the tile floor with a sickening crack.
The crystal face shattered into a spiderweb of fractures. The second hand stopped. The chain separated from the watch body.
3:47.
The exact time my father died.
I dropped to my knees. My hands shook as I reached for the pieces. The broken crystal cut into my fingertips. Blood welled up. Dripped onto the fractured watch face.
"To Elara, reach for the stars."
The inscription on the back was still there. Still perfectly engraved. Still my father's handwriting transformed into metal.
"Oops." Victoria's voice floated above me. Sweet. Apologetic. False. "I didn't mean to drop it."
Her friends laughed. Quiet. Cruel.
"Looks like it wasn't worth much anyway. The crystal broke so easily."
"My dad has a Richard Mille worth more than a hundred of those."
I picked up the largest fragment. The watch face was ruined. The mechanism exposed. Something small and metallic caught the light inside—a tiny corner of microfilm I had forgotten was hidden there—but no one else noticed.
My vision blurred.
Not from tears.
From rage.
I stood up. Blood dripped from my fingertips onto the white tiles. The broken watch pieces cut into my palm as I closed my fist around them.
Victoria was still smiling. Still playing innocent.
I shoved her.
Hard.
She stumbled backward. Her hip collided with the edge of a desk. Her head snapped to the side. Hit the corner of the desk behind her.
"She pushed me!" Victoria's scream filled the classroom. "She's trying to kill me!"
Ms. Rivera rushed forward. "Girls! Stop!"
But it was already over.
Victoria pressed her hand to her forehead. When she pulled it away, there was a red mark. Barely a scratch. Surface abrasion. But it looked dramatic against her pale skin.
Her friends swarmed around her. Blocking my view.
"Someone call the nurse!"
"Oh my God, she's bleeding!"
"Elara went crazy!"
The classroom door slammed open.
Ms. Whitmore, the head of student affairs, stood in the doorway. Her eyes swept across the scene. The scattered contents of my bag. The broken watch. Victoria surrounded by her friends. Me standing alone with blood on my hands.
"Both of you." Her voice cut through the chaos. "Principal's office. Now."
---
The walk to Dr. Pemberton's office felt endless.
Victoria walked ahead of me. Her friends had given her a tissue to press against her forehead. She kept her shoulders hunched. Playing the victim.
Ms. Whitmore walked between us. Silent. Disapproving.
I wrapped my bleeding hand in my handkerchief. The watch pieces were still clutched in my other palm. I refused to let them go.
Dr. Pemberton was already waiting when we arrived. He gestured to the chairs in front of his massive mahogany desk.
Victoria sat immediately. Dabbed at her forehead with the tissue. Her eyes were red-rimmed.
I remained standing by the door. My spine straight. My jaw tight.
"Miss Vance." Dr. Pemberton's voice was stern. "I have received multiple reports that you assaulted Miss Victoria in the classroom. This is an extremely serious matter."
Victoria spoke before I could respond. Her voice trembled. "I was just trying to help her pick up the things that fell from her bag. She suddenly went crazy and pushed me!"
"That's not—"
"You see this?" Victoria pointed to the red mark on her forehead. "She could have killed me!"
"Miss Vane is exaggerating." I kept my voice level. "She grabbed my bag without permission. She rifled through my personal belongings. And she destroyed my father's watch."
I stepped forward. Placed my handkerchief on Dr. Pemberton's desk. Carefully unwrapped it to reveal the broken watch pieces.
"This was my father's last gift to me. An antique pocket watch he saved a year's salary to buy. It was all I had left of him."
Dr. Pemberton looked at the shattered crystal. At the inscription on the back. His expression softened for a moment.
Then hardened again.
"Even so, Miss Vance, you should not have used physical force. St. Valerius has a strict zero-tolerance policy regarding violence."
A knock on the door interrupted him.
Julian entered first.
Sloane followed. Her hand wrapped around his arm. Her expression carefully arranged into concern.
Then Tristan.
Finally, Mr. Vane Senior. Leaning on his cane. His face impassive.
Victoria must have texted them immediately.
Sloane rushed to Victoria's side. "Oh sweetheart, are you hurt?" She examined the red mark on Victoria's forehead. Then turned to Julian. "Darling, Victoria is injured. How could Elara do this?"