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If they try to bill me for perks I never saw, I’ll take the OCC, Wyvern House, and every one of their businesses down on fraud.
Hikaru hits his intercom. “Stacey.”
His half-whispered bark is an icicle to the ribs.
The sound isn’t for me, but just in case, I scoot my chair out of murdering distance.
“Yes, Director?” Stacey flies in, pale and oh-so-totally guilty, wringing her hands in her blouse and filling the room with anxious, peachy musk.
“Where does Lilah Darling live?”
“In the A dormitory…”
Funny thing.
Stacey?
She’s been to my closet home. Personally handed me a punishment slip or twenty over the years.
“Is that so? Why is she telling me she’s housed in a laundry room?” When Hikaru pushes the file across the desk to flash the evidence, I glimpse the upside-down lies.
“What the—” I snatch the folder.
And holy shit motherfucking biscuit.
I mean, I had zero expectations management would do me any favors, but this.
This!
My records are a dictionary-thick list of disciplinary actions.
Fights.
Punishments.
More fights.
And if you believe the hype, I’ve started every fight in the history of time.
Threatened Juniper with scissors. One day suspension.
How about, I defended myself with the scissors Juniper used to cut off my entire GD head of hair, then got pulled out of class for a week, most of which I spent in the basement solitary cell the trainers keep open for me.
Every entry is the same.
I started an unprovoked fight and was given a super reasonable, above-board punishment. The footnotes lament bullshit like, “doesn’t respond to discipline,” and “Uncooperative. Omega identity suspect.”
My chest falls, heavy with the unexpected sense of betrayal. I thought I had no hope left, but as always, the OCC finds another floor in my heart to demolish.
I shove the folder. “None of this is right.”
“Don’t lie to the director.” Stacey huffs. “You—”
“Show me which entries are wrong.” Ignoring her, Hikaru pulls his chair around the desk to me.
“You have all afternoon?”
“As long as it takes.”
