Chapter 4: The Cafeteria Showdown

The morning started like any other—the chatter of students, the clatter of trays, and the hum of a busy school cafeteria. But I knew it wouldn't stay normal for long.

The police arrived without warning. Two officers walked in, their faces hard, eyes scanning the crowd until they found me.

"Makanaka", one of them said, voice cold and steady, "you're under arrest for vandalism and possession of stolen property."

My heart pounded so loud I thought the whole cafeteria could hear it.

"No," I said quickly, shaking my head. "I didn't do it. She did."

I pointed at Julia.

Gasps and whispers filled the room. Julia's eyes locked onto mine, her stare unreadable.

The officers moved towards her, handcuffs ready. Julia didn't resist. She walked calmly, head held high.

I wanted to scream—to shout that it was all a lie, that I had betrayed her to save myself. But the fear and shame rooted me to the spot.

The other students stared, their eyes full of judgement and betrayal. I could feel their silent accusations like daggers.

I wanted to look away, but the guilt pressed down, heavier than ever. How did it come to this?

As Julia was led out, I remembered the bracelet on her wrist—my bracelet—the final proof of the trap I had set.

I had won the battle but lost a part of myself I never thought I could lose.

The moment the doors slammed behind Julia, I felt a sudden rush behind me.

The gang—my gang—surrounded me, stepping out from the shadows of the cafeteria.

They pulled me into a fierce group hug, their faces serious but strangely kind.

"It had to be done," whispered one of them, a girl named Tendai, who always had the sharpest eyes. "If not her, then it would have been me. Or someone else."

A girl with braided hair squeezed my shoulder. "You're one of us now. We accept you."

My eyes flickered with tears, but I nodded, swallowing my pain.

They didn't say more, but I knew what they meant: betrayal was part of the game. Survival meant sacrifice.

I stood frozen, watching the scene unfold, knowing deep inside that I had won a battle but lost something far more important.

I didn't get to talk to any of them after that—the bell rang, and classes pulled me from one corridor to the next like a prisoner being transferred cell to cell.

Part of me was relieved.

If I had stopped to speak to any of them, I might have cracked. I was holding on by threads. And weakness? That's something they'd never let you live down.

When the final bell rang, I didn't wait. I left school fast—head down, heart heavy, words choking in my throat. As we drove past the beautiful houses lined like postcards, I felt the weight press harder on my chest. I didn't even notice the tears until I tasted salt on my lips.

"Hey, Mak… Why are you crying?"

I glanced up through the rearview mirror and saw concern in the driver's eyes. I gave a small smile, even though it barely reached my face.

"Life isn't always in black and white, you know," I said softly, echoing my mother's words—the ones she always said when things got too hard to explain.

He nodded quietly. I thanked him as I stepped out of the car, shutting the door slowly, eyes locked on the house in front of me. The perfect house. The perfect lie.

Was it even worth it?

The thought echoed through me like thunder in an empty room.

I wiped my tears away with trembling fingers and forced a smile as I reached for the doorknob. I had to be okay. I had to look okay.

That evening was a masquerade. My uncle and aunt had returned from their trip, smiling wide and bearing expensive gifts. Laughter filled the room. Flashing cameras. Glittering ribbons.

And me—playing the perfect niece.

No one could know. Not tonight.

Not that I had almost been arrested.

Not that I'd let my childhood best friend take the fall.

Then she called me.

My aunt.

Her voice was too calm. Her smile is too tight.

"Mak, come to my room. We need to talk."

My stomach turned to ice.

I walked in slowly, my pulse beating loud in my ears. She didn't even look up at first—just adjusted her earrings in the mirror. Then she turned, eyes sharp.

"Where is your bracelet?" she asked.

Simple question.

But her eyes… they were piercing, knowing.

My mouth went dry.

Something about the way she said it—how her voice dropped just slightly at the end—made me panic. Like she knew more than she was saying.

Like she knew everything.