Thursday morning began like any other. Angel breezed through her routine—shower, breakfast, hugs from her parents—before heading out the door. At school, Mira was already waiting by the gate, arms crossed, eyes scanning the road.
"Still no sign of Vicky?" Angel asked as she approached.
"She's late—again," Mira replied with a grin.
Minutes later, Vicky came rushing up, hair bouncing as she ran. "Sorry, sorry! I overslept!"
Together, the trio strolled into class, chatting and laughing, unaware that their day would end on a much darker note.
---
The final bell rang, and students poured out of classrooms into the afternoon sun. Angel and her friends were just turning the corner toward the gate when Isabel appeared—seemingly out of nowhere.
Without warning, she swung her designer bag—and whack!—it struck Angel hard across the cheek.
Angel gasped, stumbling back as pain radiates across her face. The world seemed to freeze.
"Oh, shabby. Didn't see you there," Isabel said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Behind her, Carly and Liz giggled like programmed puppets.
"You should be apologizing," Vicky snapped, stepping forward. "You just hit her!"
"She should apologize to Isabel's bag," Liz retorted, smirking. "It's stained by her ugly face. That thing cost more than her entire wardrobe."
"Yeah, maybe she should pay for it—only five hundred thousand, then maybe we'd apologize" Carly added mockingly.
"Shut up, both of you," Isabel snapped, shooting them a glare. "I never apologize. Not even if she sold her whole life to pay for it." With a flip of her sleek hair, she turned and strutted away, her minions trailing behind, still laughing.
Vicky's fists were clenched. "I swear, if I had five more seconds, her face would've met the pavement."
Mira placed a hand on her shoulder. "Easy, Vick. She wants a reaction. That's her game."
Angel remained silent, holding her cheek and blinking rapidly, as if willing the sting away.
"You okay?" Mira asked, worried about etching her face.
Angel forced a small nod. "It's fine. Let's just go."
---
They reached the parking lot where Mr. Gabriel was waiting in the car. Angel quietly slid into the front seat, head bowed.
"Hey sweetheart," her dad greeted cheerfully. "How was school—"
He paused, noticing the shift in her demeanor.
"You're usually bubbling with stories by now. What's up?"
"It was... just a boring day," Angel replied quickly.
Gabriel studied her. "Can you lift your head a bit? You know how I feel about you walking around like you've got something to be ashamed of."
Reluctantly, Angel looked up—and the bruise was unmistakable.
"What happened to your face?" he asked, voice tightening with concern.
"I—I bumped into a wall," she lied.
He frowned, clearly unconvinced, but he let it go. For now.
---
Later that evening, Gabriel found Christiana in the bedroom, preparing for their long-awaited day together.
"My love," he began, "I think something's going on with Angel. She's been distant lately, and yesterday... she lied to me."
Christiana didn't look up. "What kind of lie?"
"She said she bumped into a wall, but it's obvious someone hit her. I want to go to her school. Talk to the principal. Get to the bottom of this."
Christiana froze, then slowly turned. "You're canceling our date? Again?"
"Not canceling. Postponing. Just for a day," Gabriel said gently. "She might be getting bullied."
Christiana gave a tight smile, but her eyes betrayed disappointment. "Fine. Tomorrow."
As Gabriel left the room, she sat on the edge of the bed, her smile fading. Is Angel always going to come first? Is this what I signed up for? The thought twisted in her chest. Maybe he still loves her mother more than he loves me.
---
The next morning, Gabriel sat across from Mr. Francis, the new principal of Ridgewood Academy.
A tall man with sharp features and short brown hair, Mr. Francis carried an air of quiet authority. He had recently returned from abroad to take over the family-owned school, determined to modernize its culture.
"Good morning Mr Francis, I'm Gabriel James, Angel's father," Mr. Gabriel said, his eyes locking onto Mr. Francis's as he took a seat. "She's a scholarship student here."
"Good morning, Mr. Gabriel. What brings you in today?" he asked, folding his hands on the desk.
Gabriel took a breath. "I believe my daughter is being bullied. She came home yesterday with a bruise on her cheek and lied about it. I need to know what's happening—and what the school intends to do about it."
Mr. Francis's eyes narrowed, his tone serious. "Bullying is not tolerated at Ridgewood. I'll speak to her teachers and pull surveillance footage from the school grounds.
—
As Miss Jane entered the office, Mr. Francis briefed her on the situation. "Good afternoon, Miss Jane. This is Mr. James, Angel's father. He's concerned about some changes in his daughter's behavior, possibly related to bullying in school, but she's not talking."
Miss Jane's eyes widened slightly. "Sir, I hadn't noticed any changes in her behavior. She's always been an active participant in class."
Mr. Francis's gaze turned thoughtful. "Okay, let's get to the bottom of this. Can you call in the kids she's been around lately?"
Miss Jane nodded and stepped out of the office, returning with Vicky, Angel, and Mira. "Here they are, sir," she said, gesturing to the trio.
Mr. Francis's expression turned serious. "Mirabel, please stay. Vicky and Angel, wait outside for now."
As Vicky and Angel filed out, Mr. Francis turned to Mirabel. "Can you tell us what's been going on with Angel recently? Why does she have bruises on her face?"
Mirabel's eyes flashed with indignation. "It's Isabel Johnson, Dad. She's been calling Angel 'shabby,' and yesterday, she hit her with her bag and refused to apologize."