Chapter 5: Breaking Point

"Where's your bracelet?" she asked again.

But the way she looked at me—like she was reading every crack in my expression—made my stomach twist.

I blinked. "My… my bracelet?"

"The gold one," she said. "I bought this dress to match it. Thought you'd wear it for John's graduation."

I laughed too quickly, nodding. "Oh! Right. I think it's… probably in my school bag."

She smiled and turned away again, satisfied. "Well, dig it out. It'll look good with this."

I nodded and stepped out of her room, closing the door gently behind me.

Then I ran to mine and locked it.

I tore through my bag, shaking as I searched for something I knew wasn't in there. But the bracelet wasn't there,, obviously.

And neither was the peace I used to have.

The days after the cafeteria showdown were some of the darkest I had ever known. The stares, the whispers, the half-smiles that hid judgment—ey followed me everywhere. My friends no longer looked at me the same way, and some avoided me completely.

But worse than the school's coldness was the storm inside my mind.

My phone kept buzzing with messages from that unknown number—e one threatening to reveal the original video, the real truth behind the lies.

"We know what you did."

"Confess now, or everyone will find out."

"You can't run from this."

Each message felt like a knife twisting deeper into my chest. I was trapped in a nightmare of my own making.

I wanted to tell someone. I wanted to confess, to unburden my soul and be free. But who could I trust? Who would understand that I only did it because I was scared? Because I wanted a better life? Because I didn't want to lose everything I had gained?

The gang's words echoed in my head: "You did what you had to." But were those words enough to silence the guilt eating me alive?

Every night, I lay awake staring at the ceiling, torn between shame and fear. The bracelet on Julia's wrist haunted my thoughts—constant reminder of the betrayal I had set in motion.

I missed my childhood friend. I missed the days before lies and betrayal. But most of all, I missed feeling like I was worth something beyond fear and survival. It had been two weeks of faking it till I got over it when,

One afternoon, I caught sight of Julia in the hallway. Her eyes met mine for a split second—no anger, no hate, just sadness. And in that moment, I realized I was breaking.

I was breaking inside.

The life I had fought so hard to build was crumbling around me, piece by painful piece.

And the person I feared losing the most… was myself.

She slammed her locker shut, and the echo snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned just in time to see her—Julia—disappearing into the corridor like a ghost that was never meant to return.

I was supposed to be at chess practice that afternoon, but I couldn't bring myself to go. My chest felt heavy, my mind too loud. So I made my way to the library instead.

I sat alone, flipping through my sociology notes, trying to focus on anything but what I'd seen. Soon, I heard the sound of chairs scraping against the floor and soft murmurs as people settled in around me. I already knew who it was—but I kept my head down, pretending not to care.

"We're still your friends, you know," Tendai said gently, leaning in to close my book.

I wanted to scream. I hated her so much.

I hated them.

They were the reason I'd vandalized that wall in the first place. And someone from that very group had recorded the video. I still didn't know who it was, but I was sure—it had to be one of them.

These girls weren't just spoiled brats. They were dangerous.

Back in Mpopoma, people like them didn't hide their claws. At least there, you knew how to protect yourself. Here? They wore pretty smiles and stabbed backs like it was a game.

"I know," I muttered, lifting my head and forcing a weak smile.

They smiled back, instantly returning to their shallow conversation like nothing was wrong.

I was zoned out. I didn't even hear them calling my name.

"Aah!" I yelped, snapping my head toward Carol. "Why did you do that?"

"You weren't even here, girl," she said, grinning sheepishly—like she hadn't just pinched me hard enough to jolt me back to reality.

They burst out laughing, like it was the funniest thing in the world. I looked at each of them and saw it clearly now. These weren't the kind of people you leaned on when things fell apart. These were the ones who pushed.

"I feel tired," I said, gathering my books. "I think I'll head home."

"It's still around three, Mak," someone said.

"Yes. And I am going home."

I didn't wait for a response. I knew I was being rude but was just too angry to care. I packed up, stood, and walked out of the library. I didn't look back, but I felt it—seven pairs of eyes burning holes through my back.

Then came the voice.

Shrill.

Familiar.

But colder than it had ever been before.

"Be careful... you might lose it all overnight."

I froze.

The hallway didn't echo—it shivered.

Laughter followed. High-pitched. Hollow. Twisted. It wasn't joyful—it was a blade wrapped in velvet. And it sliced through me like ice water to the spine.

My blood turned to ice.

I knew that voice.

It wasn't Lethiwe.

It wasn't Carol.

It wasn't even Tendai.

It was Bridget.

The quietest one in the group. The one who never raised her voice, never joined the teasing, and never fought for attention. But when did she speak?

Every word landed like a curse.

There was something about her tone—calm, smooth, almost gentle—but underneath it was something wrong. Something sharp.

She never needed to yell.

She just needed one sentence to destroy a person.

And tonight, she chose me.

I turned my head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse—but she was already gone. Like smoke. Like she'd never been there sitting at the table with the rest of them.

But her words stayed.

Wrapped around my neck like a noose.

Bridget—the girl no one watched too closely.

The girl who always won at chess.

The girl who never lost... because she played ten moves ahead.

And I had just stepped onto her board.