ARIA'S POV
I ran from the music room the second I saw the camera, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might explode.
The red light. Blinking. Recording.
Isabella had heard everything. Our plan. Our evidence. Kai's confession. All of it.
My phone buzzed before I even made it to the parking lot.
Unknown: Nice try, scholarship girl. See you at the assembly tomorrow. I'll be ready. Will you?
I wanted to scream. Wanted to throw my phone against the wall and watch it shatter. Instead, I kept running until I reached Maya's car, where she was waiting like I'd asked.
"Drive," I gasped, jumping in. "Just drive."
Maya didn't ask questions. She hit the gas, and we were gone.
"What happened?" she finally asked when we were five blocks away.
"Camera. In the music room. Isabella heard everything."
Maya's hands tightened on the wheel. "So she knows about your recordings?"
"She knows about the plan. About Kai helping me. About tomorrow's assembly." I pressed my hands to my face. "We're done. She's going to destroy us before we even get started."
"Not if we move first."
I looked up. Maya's jaw was set, her eyes fierce.
"What are you thinking?" I asked.
"We don't wait until tomorrow. We go tonight." Maya pulled out her phone. "I have three hundred followers on my social media. Not a lot, but enough. We post everything right now. The recordings, the threats, the timeline. We flood the internet before Isabella can control the narrative."
"But Kai said we should wait—"
"Kai doesn't know about the camera. And by the time we tell him, Isabella will have already made her move." Maya glanced at me. "This is your call, Aria. Your evidence. Your choice."
My evidence. Hours of recordings I'd been collecting on Maya's backup phone. Every threat, every manipulation, every cruel word. Proof that Isabella Laurent was not the victim she pretended to be.
I thought about Ethan calling me clingy. About teachers questioning my work. About the posters plastered across school, painting me as a desperate stalker.
I thought about Lily's medical records, leaked for everyone to mock.
And I thought about the girl I used to be—the one who made herself small, who stayed quiet, who let people walk all over her because she was afraid of causing trouble.
That girl was gone.
"Do it," I said. "Post everything."
Maya grinned. "That's my girl."
We spent the next hour in Maya's car, parked behind a closed grocery store, uploading files. Audio recordings of Isabella's threats. Screenshots of her fake social media accounts where she'd been spreading lies. Text messages proving she'd orchestrated the whole harassment campaign.
"This one," Maya said, showing me her phone. "This is the nuclear option."
It was a video. Taken three days ago, based on the timestamp. Isabella and Ethan, talking in an empty classroom. I recognized it from the background—Mr. Chen's history room.
"Where did you get this?" I asked.
"Security club. I have friends." Maya smirked. "Watch."
She pressed play.
On screen, Isabella leaned close to Ethan. "Are you sure this will work?"
"Positive," Ethan replied. "Once the teachers start questioning her essays, Columbia will investigate. They'll think she's been cheating all along. No scholarship, no college, no future."
My blood turned to ice.
"And the medical records leak?" Isabella asked. "That was brilliant. Now everyone sees Kai for what he really is—a charity case who can't even take care of his own sister."
Ethan laughed. "It was your idea."
"We make a good team." Isabella kissed his cheek. "After graduation, when we're both at Princeton, we'll barely remember she existed."
The video ended.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Could only hear Ethan's words playing over and over.
No scholarship, no college, no future.
This wasn't about jealousy or teenage drama. This was systematic destruction. Planned, calculated, designed to ruin my entire life.
"Post it," I whispered.
"Aria, if we post this, there's no going back. They'll know we have access to security footage. They'll come after us—"
"POST IT!"
Maya hesitated, then nodded. Her fingers flew across her phone screen.
One by one, the files went live. Audio clips. Screenshots. And finally, the video.
The caption was simple: "The Truth About Isabella Laurent and Ethan Park. #CrestwoodExposed"
"Done," Maya said. "Now we wait."
We didn't have to wait long.
Within ten minutes, Maya's phone was exploding. Comments, shares, tags. People were watching, listening, spreading the truth faster than Isabella could ever contain it.
Holy crap, Ethan's been planning this?
Isabella's FAKE? Everything was a lie?
Poor Aria. I can't believe we believed those rumors.
Kai's sister is sick and they LEAKED her records?? That's messed up!
My phone started ringing. Unknown numbers, blocked calls, messages from classmates I hadn't spoken to in years.
Then I saw it. A call from Kai.
I answered. "Kai, I'm so sorry. I know we were supposed to wait, but Isabella found the camera and—"
"I know. I saw the posts." His voice was strange. Tight. "Aria, where are you?"
"Maya's car. Why? What's wrong?"
"Isabella just showed up at the hospital."
My heart stopped. "What?"
"She's here. At Lily's floor. The nurses won't let her in, but she's demanding to see my sister. Says she's a 'family friend' and she's 'concerned' about Lily's welfare." Kai's voice shook with rage. "She's trying to get to Lily. To hurt her. To get to me."
"Call security—"
"I did. They're handling it. But Aria, she's not done. She texted me. Said if I don't convince you to delete everything in the next hour, she's going to—" He stopped.
"Going to what?"
"She has your mom's address. And photos of her leaving the hospital after her shift." Kai's voice cracked. "She's threatening your mom, Aria. She said accidents happen all the time in hospital parking lots."
The world tilted.
My mom. She was threatening my mom.
"I'm calling the police," I said, already dialing with shaking hands.
"She said if you call the cops, she'll claim we're harassing her. That we're the ones threatening her. She's got fake texts ready to prove it." Kai sounded helpless. Desperate. "I don't know what to do. I can't let her hurt Lily. I can't let her hurt your mom. But if we back down now—"
"We don't back down," I said firmly, even though I was terrified. "We finish this."
"How? She's holding all the cards—"
"No. She's panicking. That's why she's threatening family. That's why she came to the hospital." I was thinking fast now, pieces clicking together. "She knows the posts are spreading. She knows she's losing control. So she's trying to scare us into silence before it's too late."
"Before what's too late?"
"Before people figure out the biggest secret of all." I grabbed Maya's phone, scrolling through Isabella's social media, looking for something, anything—
And then I found it.
"Maya, zoom in on this photo. The one from Isabella's 'Paris apartment.'"
Maya zoomed. In the background, barely visible, was a business card on a table. I could just make out the text.
Park Industries. Marcus Park's name. A date from six months ago.
"She knew Ethan before she transferred," I breathed. "This whole thing was planned from the beginning."
"But why?" Maya asked. "Why go through all this trouble?"
My phone buzzed. An email. From an address I didn't recognize.
The subject line: "You wanted the truth? Here it is."
I opened it.
Inside was a document. A contract. Between Marcus Park and someone named Laurent Enterprises.
It was a marriage agreement. Arranged. Legal. Binding.
Ethan Park was to marry Isabella Laurent upon graduation. In exchange, Laurent Enterprises would receive a fifty million dollar investment from Park Industries.
The date on the contract? Signed eight months ago. Before Isabella ever transferred to Crestwood.
"It's an arranged marriage," I whispered. "The whole thing. Ethan and Isabella. It's business."
"Who sent this?" Maya demanded.
"I don't know."
Another text came through. Same unknown number.
Unknown: Check the sender's name on the document. Bottom left corner.
I zoomed in. There, in tiny print, was the lawyer's name who'd drawn up the contract.
James Morrison.
Professor Morrison. The music teacher who'd been helping Kai.
My phone rang. Professor Morrison's name on the screen.
I answered. "You sent me the contract?"
"I did." His voice was grave. "I've been investigating the Parks for months. What they did to you, to Kai, to countless scholarship students over the years—it had to stop. But I needed proof. Undeniable proof."
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"Because if I told you, you'd have acted differently. I needed Isabella and Ethan to feel confident. To get sloppy. And they did." He paused. "Aria, I have more. Documents proving Marcus Park has been bribing school officials. Proof that Isabella's 'scandal' in Paris never happened. Evidence of academic fraud going back five years."
"How did you—"
"Because I'm not just a music teacher. I'm a former investigative journalist. I came to Crestwood specifically to expose the Parks' corruption. But I needed a catalyst. I needed someone brave enough to stand up to them."
He needed me.
"Tomorrow's assembly," Professor Morrison continued. "Don't cancel it. Don't back down. Show up, and I'll handle the rest. Trust me."
The line went dead.
I looked at Maya, my mind reeling.
"What do we do?" she asked.
Before I could answer, my phone exploded with notifications. Not texts. Not calls.
News alerts.
"BREAKING: Park Industries Under Investigation for Fraud"
"Anonymous Source Leaks Documents Showing Illegal Business Practices"
"Park Industries CEO Marcus Park Facing Federal Charges"
Someone had sent Professor Morrison's evidence to the media. All of it. Everything about the Parks' corruption was going public.
And if Marcus Park was going down, he'd take everyone with him.
Including his son.
Including Isabella.
My phone rang again. This time, it was Ethan.
I almost didn't answer. But something made me pick up.
"Aria." His voice was broken. Destroyed. "What did you do?"
"I told the truth."
"My dad—the company—everything's collapsing. They're saying fraud, embezzlement, bribery. The FBI is at our house right now." He was crying. Actually crying. "You destroyed my family."
"No, Ethan. Your family destroyed itself." I felt nothing. No satisfaction, no revenge, no anger. Just tired. "You tried to destroy me first. You just didn't expect me to fight back."
"Please," he begged. "Please help me. Tell them you lied. Tell them the evidence is fake. Aria, please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything. Just help me this one last time—"
"No."
"What?"
"I said no. I'm done helping you. I'm done being your safety net. I'm done sacrificing myself to make you look good." My voice was steady. Strong. "You made your choices, Ethan. Now live with them."
I hung up.
Maya stared at me with something like awe. "That was the most badass thing I've ever seen."
I should have felt victorious. Should have felt powerful.
Instead, I just felt empty.
My phone buzzed one more time. Another unknown number.
Unknown: Well played, Miss Chen. But the game isn't over yet. See you at the assembly tomorrow. Because I'm coming for you. And this time, I'm bringing everything I have.
It was Isabella.
And she wasn't bluffing anymore.
Tomorrow morning, one of us was going to end this.
The question was: who would still be standing when it was over?