" Troy pointed dramatically at Nia, playing the role of victim with Oscar-level theatrics. She snapped. She attacked us. We were just trying to help her. She went crazy.
Nia's voice cracked with fury. That's a lie. They enough. Alder snapped without even looking at her. I saw the state of these boys.
I don't need your version. Nia stared at her, disbelief washing over her like ice water. You didn't even ask. I don't need to ask. Alder cut in sharply.
Your behavior is unacceptable. Nia's eyes burned. Check the camera, she insisted, pointing toward Bryce's phone, still glowing on the floor. The whole thing is recorded. Bryce jolted, panicked, and quickly slid his foot over the phone, hiding it under his shoe.
Alder didn't notice. Of course, she didn't. Her mind was already made up. Nia Carter, she declared with venomous certainty. You are suspended effective immediately.
The words slapped harder than Troy ever could. Nia's breath caught. Suspended for defending myself for attacking four students. Alder corrected, gripping Nia's arm. You're lucky we're not calling the police.
Troy smirked behind Alder's shoulder, confidence returning like a disease. Bryce and Colton exchanged relieved looks. Reed's pained groans softened into smug satisfaction. They had won for now. Alder yanked Nia toward the door.
Come with me. You'll explain yourself to the principal. Nia twisted her arm free for a moment. If you just look at the camera, Alder tightened her grip, nails digging into Nia's skin. I said enough.
Nia was dragged out of the bathroom. Denied any chance to defend herself. Denied the truth. Denied even the possibility of justice. Behind her, Bryce quickly scooped up his phone and hid it in his jacket footage, untouched, unseen, and far more powerful than he knew.
As the bathroom door slammed shut, Troy exhaled shakily, then muttered under his breath, "She's dead. She doesn't even know it yet. " Pulled down the hallway toward the principal's office, Nia realized the beating in the bathroom wasn't the end. It was only the start of a much bigger, much uglier fight. In some schools, justice isn't blind.
It's bought, polished, and hung on the wall behind the principal's desk. Principal Garrison's office smelled like expensive leather and arrogance. Nia stood in front of his polished mahogany desk while Miss Alder and Troy stationed themselves behind her like prosecutors, ready for execution. The clock read 3:40 p. M., but the heaviness in the room felt like midnight.
Garrison didn't even look up as he spoke. "Sit. " Nia didn't. I need to explain. He slammed his pen down.
Not another word. The air froze. Miss Alder crossed her arms, satisfied. Troy reclined slightly in his chair, pretending to be the injured party, fingers tapping rhythmically as if rehearsing how tragic his story would sound. Garrison finally looked up, adjusting his glasses with forced patience.
Miss Alder tells me you assaulted four students. That's not what happened, Nia said immediately. They cornered me. They humiliated me. They She snapped.