Chapter 7 – The Breaking Point

The weight of Yunis' words sat heavy in Fariha's mind long after their conversation.

She wasn't weak. She didn't just take things. Did she?

No.

If anything, she had always stood her ground. But something was different now—everything felt like it was slipping through her fingers. Jiya, the English teacher, her top rankings, the easy confidence she once had. It wasn't about Yunis, not really. But his presence had stirred something in the air, something she couldn't ignore.

She spent the rest of the day in a haze, replaying every interaction over the past few months, trying to find the moment where everything had changed.

And then, as if the universe had decided to test her patience further, the English teacher walked into the classroom with a sheet of paper in his hands and a smirk on his face.

"Time for a pop quiz," he announced.

A few groans filled the room, but Fariha simply exhaled. She was prepared. English had always been her strongest subject—until now.

The teacher started distributing the papers, and when he reached her desk, he paused just long enough to make her uneasy. His eyes flicked over her, and she could already tell he was waiting for her to fail.

She wouldn't.

Fariha picked up her pen, ignoring the twisting in her stomach. She read through the questions, answering each one carefully, refusing to let doubt creep in.

Then, just as she was finishing the last question, the teacher's voice rang out.

"Time's up."

She blinked, realizing that most of the class had already placed their pens down. Some were even smirking in her direction, as if they knew something she didn't.

The teacher walked around collecting the papers, but when he reached her, he didn't take hers. Instead, he picked up her notebook from the side of her desk and flipped it open.

Her heart dropped.

"What's this?" he asked, loud enough for the entire class to hear.

Fariha's stomach twisted. "My notes."

The teacher hummed, flipping through the pages. Then, with exaggerated slowness, he turned the book toward the class.

"She was copying answers," he announced.

A ripple of murmurs spread across the room.

Fariha shot up from her seat. "I wasn't."

The teacher raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Then explain why your notes match the answers word for word."

Fariha clenched her fists. "Because I studied."

The teacher's smirk widened. "Convenient."

She opened her mouth to argue, but then she saw it—the way Jiya turned away, as if she didn't want to get involved. The way Yunis, sitting near the window, leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. The way the other students whispered, some shaking their heads, others outright laughing.

And suddenly, she knew.

This wasn't a mistake.

This was planned.

The realization burned through her, lighting up every moment of humiliation she had endured. Every punishment. Every time she had been pushed down.

It wasn't a coincidence.

The teacher had been waiting for a chance to do this to her.

Fariha straightened, her voice calm but sharp as a blade. "You knew I would get the answers right, didn't you?"

The teacher tilted his head. "Excuse me?"

She took a step forward. "That's why you planted this setup. You knew I would score well. So you made sure I wouldn't."

A few students sucked in their breaths. Others exchanged glances.

The teacher's smirk faltered for half a second before he laughed. "What an imagination you have, Fariha. Maybe you should consider writing fiction instead of cheating."

Her nails dug into her palms.

This wasn't about the test anymore.

This was about power.

And she had just realized how much of it she had lost.

The teacher turned to Yunis. "What do you think? Should cheaters be punished?"

Fariha's breath caught.

Yunis, who had been quiet the entire time, finally spoke. "I think," he said, slowly, "that if someone is smart enough to get all the answers right, maybe they don't need to cheat."

Silence.

The teacher's expression darkened.

Fariha looked at Yunis, but he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at the teacher. Calm. Unbothered. Like he had just checkmated him in a game he didn't even know he was playing.

The tension thickened.

Then, the teacher slammed Fariha's notebook shut and threw it onto her desk. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood today," he said, voice low. "This is your final warning."

He turned sharply and left the room, his coat billowing behind him.

Fariha exhaled, realizing she had been holding her breath.

Students slowly started chattering again, some whispering about what had just happened, others already moving on.

But Fariha felt something shift inside her.

A breaking point.

A decision.

She had taken enough.

She wouldn't anymore.

She turned to Yunis, who was now lazily flipping through his notebook like nothing had happened.

She sat down, staring at him. "Why did you do that?"

He shrugged. "Because you didn't cheat."

Her brows furrowed. "You don't even like me."

Yunis smirked but didn't look up. "Who said that?"

Her breath hitched for half a second before she caught herself.

She shook her head, muttering, "You're insufferable."

He chuckled. "And you're predictable."

Fariha rolled her eyes, but for the first time in weeks, she felt something else beneath all the frustration.

Something like relief.

Maybe she wasn't completely alone in this.

Maybe, just maybe, she still had a fight left in her.