Chapter 162: Discipline Over Blood

Mrs. Tricia’s POV

Wolves Academy, just like Archlight Academy, has its rules, rules that are non negotiable, unbendable, and designed to protect the very integrity of the school. Today, those rules were about to decide the fate of some students who had crossed a line so boldly that even I struggled to believe it.

Zade and the other betas in Archlight Academy.

Their actions weren’t small mistakes, not something we could sweep under the carpet because of age or social status. What they did was terrible, dangerous, reckless, and completely against everything the Academy stands for. And because of that, they would face the Archlight Academy Councilors.

As someone who once escaped being sacked from Archlight Academy, I learned the hard way that being in authority is not a privilege, but a responsibility. From that moment, I vowed never to bend the rules again, not even for family. Not even for the ones my heart naturally softens for.

And today would be the real test of that promise.

“Prepare the documents,” I said to my secretary as I organized my notes for the meeting. “The councilors will be here in a few minutes.”

“Okay, ma’am,” she replied, fingers tapping swiftly across the keyboard.

A few seconds passed before she hesitated. “Ma,?” she called softly.

I looked up. “Yes?”

She shifted nervously. “I’m sorry if I’m crossing boundaries.”

“Go on,” I gestured, taking my seat.

She drew in a breath as though she needed courage. “Ma, you know Marcus is like a son to you.”

Of course I knew where this was going. I could already feel it, Marcus my sister’s boy, the one who used to run through these school then with a backpack bigger than him, the same boy who always waited for me at the school gates just to give me a flower made out of paper.

But the boy he used to be, wasn’t the boy who participated in this.

I clasped my hands together. “I understand what you’re implying. But right now, I cannot look at who is related to me. I will allow the councilors to decide their fate.”

“But, do you still want to go ahead with punishing him?” she asked quietly.

“Definitely.”

My tone didn’t shake. I didn’t blink. I needed her to know I meant it.

“They crossed the line,” I continued, “and the penalty for crossing the line is what they will receive. If I pardon Marcus, how will people see me? As partial? As a hypocrite? No way.” I snapped.

“But Madam,” she whispered, “family comes first. Family they say is everything.”

I smiled gently. A sad smile.

“I know family means everything. And that is why the punishment will start with my own family. So others will learn. If I don’t discipline Marcus, what example am I setting for the rest?”

My secretary looked down at her hands, silent.

“Trust me,” I added softly, “someday, he will be grateful I disciplined him. This isn’t hatred,  this is accountability. And frankly, as my relative, I expected him to come to me when Zade came up with such a ridiculous plan. But instead,” My voice tightened. “Instead he kidnapped someone he sees as a mother.”

I raised a hand. “Tell me what kind of family does that?”

She had no more arguments. She simply bowed her head and returned to typing.

And I tried oh, I tried to swallow the lump forming in my throat.

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Minutes later, the boardroom was filled. The Archlight Academy Councilors, dignified in age and presence, sat around the long polished table. Their eyes were sharp, judgmental, familiar eyes that had once judged me.

Now they were judging our children.

The tension in the room was heavy. Not a whisper, not a cough, not even a chair sounds could be heard. Just the constant flipping of pages as they examined the documents we prepared.

Every turn of a page echoed like a verdict.

“Mrs. Tricia,” one of the councilors finally called out, adjusting his glasses. “We need the full academic and behavioral records of all the students involved.”

“Yes, sir.” I stood and handed the files over.

More flipping. More silence. Whispered observations exchanged between them.

Another councilor paused, frowning. “This Zade boy, isn’t he Mr. Frost’s son?”

“Yes, sir,” I answered immediately.

“And is Mr. Frost aware that his son took part in something this serious?”

“Yes, sir,” I replied. “In fact, from the little we gathered, it appears his father orchestrated everything.”

“What?” one councilor shouted, slamming his palm against the table. “Unbelievable.”

“That means we should not punish the son alone,” another added sharply. “The father must also answer for this.”

“Exactly.” a third councilor chimed in. “For him to watch his child, who was practically born before our very own eyes to attempt to bring down the entire school, and even support him? No, that man must pay dearly too.”

I didn’t react. I simply watched as they exchanged whispers, heads shaking in disappointment. My heart felt pity, this time for Zade. He was still just a boy, misguided, influenced by his father, but still a boy.

After several more minutes, one of the oldest councilors cleared his throat, signaling the room to quiet down.

“We have decided among ourselves,” he announced. “These children are still young. They may have thought they were fighting for something they believed in. So we will temper justice with mercy.”

A breath I didn’t realize I was holding escaped.

“Mr. Frost’s son, Zade will be suspended for two weeks,” he continued. “No school activity, no contact with students during that period.”

He closed the file. “As for his accomplices, they will serve two weeks of community service within the school premises.”

Several councilors nodded.

“Our decision is final,” he declared, standing as the others followed suit. Then, without another word, they walked out of the boardroom.

I remained seated, letting the room’s silence return.

“Fair enough,” I whispered under my breath.

Justice had been served, not perfectly, not painlessly, but fairly.

And sometimes, that was the best any of us could hope for.

I gathered the documents slowly, as I carried them to my office.