The black car stopped in front of the enormous iron gates of Royal Crest Academy.
Amara Vale stared through the window.
For a moment, she couldn’t move.
Three years.
It had been three long years since she had last stood in front of those gates. Three years since her family had lost everything. Three years since she had watched her mother’s tears fall silently at the dinner table while her father’s name was dragged through the newspapers.
And now she was back.
“Are you ready?” her mother asked softly.
Amara slowly turned toward her.
“No.”
Her mother gave her a sad smile. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do.”
Amara opened the car door before she could change her mind.
The moment her shoes touched the ground, memories rushed back.
The beautiful academy buildings.
The perfectly trimmed gardens.
The students walking around in their expensive uniforms.
Everything looked exactly the same.
But Amara wasn’t the same girl who had left this place three years ago.
That girl had been innocent.
That girl had trusted everyone.
This Amara knew better.
She adjusted the strap of her bag and walked toward the gates.
“Amara!”
She turned around.
Her mother stood beside the car, watching her nervously.
Amara forced a smile.
“I’ll be fine, Mum.”
Her mother nodded, although Amara could see the worry in her eyes.
Then the car drove away.
Amara stood alone.
She took a deep breath.
I’m back.
And this time, I’m going to find out what really happened.
—
The hallway of Royal Crest Academy became unusually quiet as Amara entered.
Students stared.
Some whispered.
She expected that.
Her family’s scandal had once been the biggest story in the city.
Everyone knew the name Vale.
Everyone knew the lies.
“Is that really her?”
“I thought her family left the country.”
“Why would she come back here?”
Amara kept walking.
She had learned something important during the past three years.
People would always talk.
You could either let their words destroy you or learn to ignore them.
Amara had chosen the second option.
“Miss Vale.”
A familiar voice stopped her.
Amara slowly turned.
Standing before her was Principal Harrison.
He looked older than she remembered. His grey hair was neatly combed, and his serious expression had not changed.
“Welcome back to Royal Crest Academy,” he said.
“Thank you, Principal Harrison.”
“I hope you have come here to focus on your education.”
Amara almost laughed.
Of course.
That was what everyone expected.
They had no idea that she had returned for something much bigger.
“Of course,” she replied politely.
The principal studied her for a moment.
Then he handed her a piece of paper.
“Your class schedule.”
Amara took it.
“Your first class begins in ten minutes.”
She glanced at the paper.
“Thank you.”
As she turned to leave, his voice stopped her again.
“Miss Vale.”
She looked back.
“Whatever happened in the past,” he said carefully, “I hope you will leave it there.”
Amara’s expression didn’t change.
“I’ll try.”
But inside, she knew she was lying.
The past was the reason she had returned.
—
Amara found her classroom just as the bell rang.
She pushed open the door.
Every student turned to look at her.
Great.
Exactly what she wanted.
The teacher, Mrs Bennett, smiled politely.
“You must be our new student.”
Amara nodded.
“Amara Vale.”
The moment she said her name, the classroom erupted with whispers.
Amara noticed the reactions immediately.
Shock.
Curiosity.
Recognition.
Mrs Bennett raised her hand.
“Everyone, please be quiet.”
The whispers slowly faded.
“You may introduce yourself.”
Amara looked around the room.
“My name is Amara Vale. I’m happy to be here.”
That was all.
She wasn’t happy to be there.
Not even a little.
But she wasn’t about to tell them that.
“There is an empty seat at the back,” Mrs Bennett said.
Amara followed her gaze.
Then she froze.
The seat was beside him.
Alexander King.
Of all the people in the entire school.
Why did it have to be him?
Alexander was staring at her.
He had dark hair, a serious expression and the kind of confidence that made everyone else seem nervous around him.
Amara knew exactly who he was.
Everyone did.
Alexander King.
The son of Richard King.
Richard King.
The man Amara blamed for destroying her family.
Her hands tightened around her bag.
She forced herself to walk toward the empty seat.
As she approached, Alexander moved his books away from the chair.
“Welcome back,” he said quietly.
Amara stopped.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Do I know you?”
Alexander looked slightly surprised.
“Not personally.”
“Then why are you welcoming me back?”
He leaned against his chair.
“Because everyone knows who you are.”
Amara gave a cold smile.
“How wonderful.”
She sat down beside him.
The lesson began.
But Amara couldn’t concentrate.
She could feel Alexander sitting beside her.
Why was he watching her?
Why did he seem so calm?
Did he know what his family had done?
Did he know the truth about her father?
Amara opened her notebook.
On the first page, she had written only one sentence.
Find the truth.
Suddenly, a small piece of paper landed on her desk.
Amara looked beside her.
Alexander was facing the front as though nothing had happened.
She slowly unfolded the note.
Her heart stopped.
You shouldn’t have come back.
Amara quickly looked around the classroom.
Everyone was focused on the teacher.
Who had written it?
She turned toward Alexander.
“Did you—”
“What?” he whispered.
“Nothing.”
Amara looked back at the note.
A cold feeling moved through her.
Someone knew why she had returned.
But that was impossible.
She hadn’t told anyone.
Not even her mother.
—
During lunch, Amara sat alone beneath a large tree behind the school.
It was quiet there.
She needed time to think.
She pulled the mysterious note from her pocket.
You shouldn’t have come back.
Was it a threat?
Or a warning?
“Interesting.”
Amara looked up sharply.
A girl stood in front of her.
She had long dark hair and a confident smile.
Amara recognised her immediately.
Sophia Blake.
One of the most popular girls at Royal Crest Academy.
And, three years ago, one of Amara’s closest friends.
“Hello, Amara,” Sophia said.
Amara slowly stood.
“Hello, Sophia.”
Sophia smiled.
“I didn’t expect to see you again.”
“I could say the same thing.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Their friendship had ended suddenly three years ago.
After the scandal.
Sophia had never called.
Never visited.
Never defended Amara.
She had simply disappeared.
“I heard about your return this morning,” Sophia finally said. “I wanted to see if it was true.”
“And now you have.”
Sophia’s smile faded slightly.
“You’re different.”
“Three years can change a person.”
“Clearly.”
Amara folded her arms.
“Did you need something?”
Sophia looked uncomfortable.
“There are some things you don’t know about what happened.”
Amara’s heart began to race.
“What things?”
Sophia looked around nervously.
“I can’t talk about it here.”
“Then where?”
Before Sophia could answer, another voice interrupted them.
“Sophia.”
Both girls turned.
Alexander King stood a few metres away.
Amara immediately noticed Sophia’s reaction.
Her expression changed.
Fear.
Why was Sophia afraid of Alexander?
Alexander walked closer.
His eyes moved from Sophia to Amara.
“Mrs Bennett is looking for you,” he said to Sophia.
Sophia shook her head.
“She can wait.”
Alexander’s expression hardened slightly.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Amara watched them carefully.
Something strange was happening.
Sophia looked at Amara.
Then she stepped closer and whispered, “Be careful who you trust.”
Before Amara could ask what she meant, Sophia walked away.
Amara turned toward Alexander.
“What was that about?”
“Nothing.”
“She looked afraid.”
Alexander’s jaw tightened.
“You’re imagining things.”
“I don’t think so.”
Alexander stared at her for several seconds.
Then he moved closer.
“Amara.”
Hearing her name from him felt strange.
“What?”
“You should stay away from Sophia.”
Amara laughed softly.
“You don’t get to tell me who I can talk to.”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“Why?”
For the first time, Alexander had no answer.
Amara took a step closer.
“Your family destroyed mine. So why would you possibly want to help me?”
Alexander’s eyes changed.
“That’s what you think happened?”
Amara stared at him.
“What else could have happened?”
Alexander looked away.
For a brief moment, he seemed almost troubled.
Then he looked back at her.
“Maybe you should ask more questions before deciding who your enemies are.”
He walked away.
Amara remained standing beneath the tree.
Her heart was beating quickly.
What did he mean?
Did Alexander know something?
Was her father really innocent?
And if he was…
Who had framed him?
—
That evening, Amara returned to her small apartment and went straight to her bedroom.
Her mother was working late, which meant Amara was alone.
She locked the door.
Then she pulled a small wooden box from beneath her bed.
Inside were the only things she had managed to keep from before their lives changed.
Old photographs.
Newspaper articles.
Her father’s business documents.
And one photograph that Amara had stared at hundreds of times.
It showed her father at a charity event.
Standing beside him was Richard King.
And behind them…
A man whose face had been scratched out.
Amara had never understood why.
She turned the photograph over.
There was writing on the back.
Her father’s handwriting.
Trust no one at Royal Crest.
Amara’s hands began to shake.
She had never shown the photograph to anyone.
Not even her mother.
Suddenly, her phone vibrated.
Amara jumped.
She looked at the screen.
An unknown number.
She slowly opened the message.
If you want the truth about your father, go to the old library at midnight. Come alone.
Amara stared at the words.
Her first instinct was to ignore it.
It could be a trap.
Someone had already warned her not to return.
But this was exactly why she had come back.
She looked at the photograph of her father one more time.
Then she closed the wooden box.
Her decision was made.
At midnight, Amara was going to the old library.
And she was finally going to get some answers.
She just didn’t know that someone else would be waiting for her.
Someone who was about to change everything.
To be continued…her, go to the old library at midnight. Come alone.
Amara stared at the words.
Her first instinct was to ignore it.
It could be a trap.
Someone had already warned her not to return.
But this was exactly why she had come back.
She looked at the photograph of her father one more time.
Then she closed the wooden box.
Her decision was made.
At midnight, Amara was going to the old library.
And she was finally going to get some answers.
She just didn’t know that someone else would be waiting for her.
Someone who was about to change everything.
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