Chapter 17 17: one revelation, a step forward?

Chapter 17 17 TEAM
SORAYA
Classes started with a bang. Ms Lily's murder was all anyone could talk about—and the Gala team announcement didn’t help. At this point, I couldn't even describe “normal” anymore.
“The team representing this class, according to the developments that have been noticed, are: Ethan Farrow and Elle Farrow, Daryl Ender and Axel Lane, Dolly McCarthy and Adele Pierre, Ilana Ender and Soraya Karter.”
The class erupted into loud chatter—chaos, really—because this lineup could as well be a death roll. Sir Sinclair had that knowing smirk as he called the names. The man knew exactly what he was doing. First, he'd paired us for our project, and now the Gala. I could swear he had a hidden agenda.
“You've got to be kidding me,” someone hissed from behind. I turned—it was Ethan.
“You don't like the team, Farrow?” I teased.
“Mind your damn business, witch!” he snapped. The anger rolling off him was enough to set the class on fire.
Daryl was quiet beside me. Normally, he'd be the first to complain or make a scene, but he didn't. His expression was distant, almost hollow—like his mind was somewhere else entirely, just like mine was.
I shifted closer to him, lowering my voice as I spoke, "What did you find?"
He didn't even flinch at my nearness, he only shut his book and turned to face me. "I don't trust you," he deadpanned. "What makes you think I'll tell you anything?"
I rolled my eyes. "You sure as hell don't think I am behind the murders?"
He scoffed. "Are you that stupid?"
My jaw tightened. "You are unbelievable."
"All eight of you, come with me to my office!" Sir Sinclair's order rang through the class as he grabbed his stuff and left, expecting us to follow him.
"Such a hassle," Ethan hissed, shuffling to his feet just like the rest of us.
"Keep your complaint to yourself at this time, Farrow. It's not going to do anything!" Dolly was the first to speak as we got out of the class.
I scoffed. I didn't like that girl.
Adele reached for me, clinging to my arm. "I am scared. Why would they have me in the team? I can barely conjure a protection spell," she whined, sniffing her nose.
"Oh heavens. This is a disaster!" It was Elle Farrow this time, groaning dramatically.
I didn't like her as well, but she was right—this was obviously a disaster.
"Shouldn't the school be more focused on the librarian's demise, than a stupid gala night? Talk about misplaced priorities."
"For someone with obviously no priorities though, you sure know how to run your mouth, Ender." Ethan could barely hide his disgust for the prince, and Daryl himself mirrored that sentiment.
"You wouldn't know what priorities are if it hit you in the face!" He snapped.
"Yeah right. Only one of us thrives on cosplaying as Daddy's little prince!"
Daryl halted, and with one swift motion, he jabbed a punch at Ethan Farrow.
We all gasped.
"Daryl!" Ilana rushed to her brother, pulling him away from his victim.
Oh, this was entertaining. "I need a popcorn!" I laughed, earning an instant glare from Dolly. I shrugged. "What? It's a show at this point."
"Shut up, witch!"
Ethan didn't replicate the hit; instead, he pushed Daryl away and brushed off his shirt. If no one looked closely, they wouldn't see his busted lips.
Thankfully we made it to Sir Sinclair's office in one piece. All eight of us were crowding the space with waves of different unwelcoming emotions.
If looks could kill, at least four of us would already be dead.
“Now there you all are! Please, make yourselves comfortable. We have a lot to discuss!” Sir Sinclair was practically cheerful. You’d think he’d show at least a hint of concern for this hellish pairing he’d orchestrated—but no.
“There won’t be any comfort here if you don’t get to the point, sir!” Ethan snapped.
“Watch your mouth, boy,” Sir Sinclair scolded mildly, then continued with that maddening calm.
“Now, as to why you’re here,” he began. “I picked you all based on your performances and... well,” his eyes flicked to Ilana, “more so because some of you have reputations that precede you.”
“Indeed,” Elle scoffed.
Sir Sinclair ignored her outburst and pressed on. "Now there's something you need to know, as participants of the gala showcase. Each year, we pick a team of students from each class level, ranging from eight to ten of them, and we put them through rigorous training just so they can showcase the best of their skills for the gala night." He paused for effect, letting his gaze sweep across our faces.
"The gala night holds a lot of significance and importance, and I must remind you that it is also a chance to make connections with big faces and names of other packs. You wouldn't know where you will find yourself after graduation."
He kept talking, packaging misery and trying to project it to us through rainbow coloured glasses. I didn't buy it, and I was sure neither did anyone here, because their visage was more of boredom than anticipation.
I wanted to leave fast, because I had to find the archives on Elroy, at least if Daryl wouldn't tell me, I would deal with it myself.
I opened my mouth to speak but I was cut short when I heard the final statement from Sir Sinclair's mouth. "This year's immense one month training for the gala, will be taking place in Elroy. The very first house where it began. And in so saying, you all have to move in there compulsorily for the next one month..."
I paused. Blinked.
Rewind.
Did he just say Elroy?
"Wait... What?!!"