There's something cruel about silence, especially when it knows your name.
Sonia stared at the note, her fingers stiff against the paper. The words were few, but they hit like a brick to the chest.
"Tell the truth, Sonia. Or I will."
No signature. No symbol. No trace of the sender.
But the handwriting—it was clean, printed in block letters. Meant to hide identity. And the paper? Cut clean from standard Daxton stationery.
Whoever wrote it wasn't just inside the school.
They were inside her circle.
---
At breakfast, Sonia barely touched her food.
She sat alone at the edge of the courtyard with her hoodie up, letting conversations buzz around her like white noise. Mavina was holding court at the gold table, laughing like a threat. Eric was nowhere to be seen.
But one thing was clear, someone at Daxton had dropped the act.
They knew.
The question wasn't if they'd tell.
It was when.
And what they wanted in return for staying silent.
By third period, a new envelope appeared.
This one was red.
Tucked into the spine of her history book. She only found it after class when she bent to pick up her notes.
Inside:
"House Morvain votes tonight.
Show up.
Or we'll assume you're not one of us."
—M
The signature wasn't threatening.
But it still felt like a trap.
Sonia paced her dorm like a caged animal. Her black blazer lay across her chair, still holding the faintest scent of cedar and danger.
What did they really want from her?
And what would happen if she said no?
9:00 p.m.
East Library.
Same entrance.
Only this time, the elevator didn't stop in the hallway.
It descended further.
Deeper.
And when it opened, Sonia stepped into a room unlike anything she'd seen before.
Black marble floors. Crimson curtains. A single long table lit by chandeliers shaped like dripping daggers.
Twelve seats.
Eleven filled.
One empty.
Waiting for her.
> "Welcome, Initiate Vale," Mavina said, rising.
> "Tonight," she announced, "we decide who truly belongs to us."
A boy with silver cufflinks slid a tray forward.
A goblet.
A silver blade.
A sealed envelope.
"We play three rounds," Mavina said. "One for loyalty, one for legacy, and one for truth."
"And if I don't play?" Sonia asked coolly.
Mavina's eyes glinted. "Then we vote without you. And you lose the only protection left in this school."
Round One: Loyalty
Each member was told to whisper a secret into a goblet and pass it down.
Sonia listened to twelve whispers.
None were repeated aloud.
When the goblet reached her, she leaned in.
"I don't trust any of you," she whispered.
Then passed it on.
Round Two: Legacy
They each received an envelope.
Inside, a single challenge tailored to their family name.
Sonia's read:
"The Vale family earned its power through silence. Break one rule tonight or stay silent and lose."
The others watched her.
Waiting.
Testing.
She reached into her pocket, pulled out her student ID, and snapped it in half without blinking.
Gasps rippled around the table.
Mavina smirked.
"That'll lock you out of the entire south wing tomorrow."
"Then I guess I'll learn how to pick locks," Sonia said.
Round Three : Truths
Mavina placed a single black card in the center of the table.
"Truth round is anonymous," she said. "Write something about yourself that no one else knows."
The cards were shuffled. Read aloud. No names.
But one stuck out:
"I'm not who you think I am."
Sonia's blood went cold.
She hadn't written that.
But someone had.
As she left the chamber, blazer buttoned, mask back on, Mavina slipped her a small folded paper.
"You're officially one of us now," she said, voice silky. "But be careful."
"Why?"
Mavina leaned in.
"Because someone in House Morvain voted against you.
And we don't allow traitors to live comfortably."