Eight

Eight


Mirella

I woke up with a strange heaviness in my chest.

Kaelen’s face still lingered at the edge of my thoughts, but I pushed it away.

It was just a dream. Nothing more.

Iris was already up, standing by the mirror and brushing her hair. “You should be careful today,” she said without looking at me.

“Careful about what?”

She turned, one eyebrow raised. “That girl from the cafeteria yesterday. The blonde one. Her name’s Alina. Don’t get on her bad side. People who do… usually don’t last here.”

I sighed, pulling on my uniform jacket. “Relax, Iris. I’m not planning on picking fights.”

“I’m serious, Mirella. Stay low-key. Please.”

I nodded, not wanting to argue. Iris meant well, and so far, she was the only one who’d shown me kindness in this place. She didn’t have to warn me. She didn’t have to care. But she did — and that counted for something.

Classes started like every other day — dull, quiet, and tense. The teachers barely raised their voices, and the students barely listened. The Legions sat at the back again, laughing softly among themselves like they owned the place.

I tried to focus on the lecture. I really did. But the air in that classroom was too heavy, like everyone was waiting for something to happen.

And then it did.

During the second class, I felt something cold splash on my hand. I looked down and saw water dripping off my notebook. A boy standing near my desk froze, his eyes wide.

“I—I’m so sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” I said quickly, grabbing a tissue. “Really.”

He was trembling. That’s when I noticed his tie — red.

Scholarship student.

The realization hit me. He thought I was one of the regular students, the ones with money, the ones who had power. His eyes darted toward the back of the room where the Legions sat.

“You’re not mad?” he asked quietly.

I shook my head. “It’s just water.”

His relief was visible. “Thank you,” he muttered before rushing off, clutching his bottle like it was his lifeline.

I felt something twist in my chest — pity, maybe. Or anger at how scared he looked. This place had already broken him.

But before I could think too much about it, a loud thud echoed through the classroom. The same boy had bumped into someone near the door, and the girl he collided with fell hard. Papers scattered. Chairs shifted. Everyone turned.

The girl scrambled to her knees, apologizing quickly. “I’m sorry! I didn’t see you—”

And then I saw who she had bumped into.

Alina.

Her perfect hair was slightly out of place, her expression turning to ice as she looked down at the girl. The room went dead silent.

Here we go again.

Alina crouched, not to help her, but to grab a fistful of her hair. “You ruined my skirt,” she said softly. “Do you know how much this costs?”

The girl whimpered. “I said I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix stupid.”

Then she slapped her. The sound cracked through the room.

Everyone flinched, but no one moved. The Legions at the back just watched — amused, entertained. Kaelen leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant, like this had nothing to do with him.

Alina pulled the girl up by her hair and slapped her again. “Maybe next time you’ll learn to watch where you’re going.”

The girl was crying now, trying to apologize again, but Alina didn’t stop. She pushed her down, kicking her once, twice. Each kick felt heavier to watch.

I clenched my fists under my desk. I could feel the anger crawling up my spine, but I tried to hold it in. This wasn’t my business. I’d only make it worse.

Then Alina raised her hand again.

“Stop it,” I said before I realized I’d spoken.

The room froze.

All eyes turned to me. Iris’s sharp whisper came immediately. “Mirella, no. Sit down.”

But I was already standing. “She apologized,” I said, my voice steady even though my heart was pounding. “You’ve made your point.”

Alina slowly turned to face me, her smile small but deadly. “Oh, look. The new girl talks.”

I didn’t respond.

She eyed me from head to toe, smirking. “If you want to help her, maybe focus on your weight first. You’d make a great shield.”

A few people laughed. My face burned, but not from shame — from anger. I took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. I told myself she wasn’t worth it.

Then she turned to Iris. “And you. How’s it feel having a roommate who doesn’t know her place? You always did have bad taste in friends.”

That did it.

Before I knew it, I’d crossed the distance between us. My hand moved before my thoughts caught up. The slap echoed louder than hers had.

For a moment, no one breathed.

Alina stumbled back, her hand flying to her cheek. Her expression turned from shock to fury.

Then the door opened.

Mr. Halden stood there, staring at us. His eyes landed on Alina’s reddened face, then on me.

“What’s going on here?” he demanded.

Alina didn’t miss a beat. “She attacked me,” she said immediately, pointing at me. “And she hurt the scholarship girl too.”

“What?” I said, stunned. “That’s a lie—”

“Office. Now.”

The word felt like a blow. The entire class was watching as I was escorted out. Iris tried to say something, but I gave her a small shake of my head. There was no point.

The principal’s office smelled like old books and polish. Behind the desk sat a man with silver hair and cold eyes. “Miss Mirella,” he began, flipping through a file. “It says here you’ve been involved in a violent altercation.”

“She’s lying,” I said quickly. “I was trying to stop her from hurting someone.”

Alina, sitting across from me, gave a perfect little sigh. “Sir, with all due respect, she hit me first. You can ask anyone in class.”

“Then we’ll do that,” the principal said. “We’ll call witnesses.”

For a second, I felt relief. Finally, someone would tell the truth.

The classroom was summoned one by one. Each student came in, nodded politely, and said the same thing. That I was the one who started it. That I’d attacked Alina.

Every word felt like a nail driving deeper into my chest.

Even Iris couldn’t look at me. When it was her turn, her voice trembled. “I didn’t see how it started,” she said softly. “But… I think Mirella hit her.”

My heart sank.

Finally, they brought in the scholarship girl — the one who’d been beaten. The one who knew the truth.

I looked at her, desperate. “Tell him what happened,” I said. “You know I didn’t touch you.”

Her eyes darted toward Alina, then down to the floor. “It was her,” she whispered. “Mirella hit me when I tried to stop her.”

I stared at her, disbelief flooding through me. “That’s not true.”

But the words didn’t matter. The decision had already been made.

The principal leaned back, his expression unreadable. “Violence is unacceptable at Saint Auriel. You’ll be suspended for one week.”