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CHAPTER FIVE – Burn the Pretty Things
Emily didn't sleep that night.
She stood by her window in the girls' tower, staring at the golden crest of Crestwood Academy shining on the distant lawn — spotless, glowing, and filthy underneath.
She could still feel Luke's lips on hers.
Still hear the silence after the USB drive hit the dinner table.
Still see the way President Caldwell clenched his jaw, like a man used to controlling every room.
They hadn't spoken since.
Not a text. Not a whisper.
She wasn't sure if that meant he was protecting her—or protecting himself.
She wouldn't wait to find out.
---
It started the next morning.
Emily was halfway to class when she saw the banner stretched across the quad:
"THE WHORE IN BLACK DOESN'T BELONG HERE."
The letters were big. Bold. Spray-painted red.
People stood around pretending not to see it, eyes sliding away in practiced elite avoidance. But the message was clear.
She didn't flinch. She didn't cry.
She walked straight to the banner, pulled it down, and walked into class holding it like a damn flag.
When Professor Asher asked if she had anything to share, she dropped it at the front of the lecture hall without a word.
Luke wasn't in class.
---
That afternoon, she went to confront him.
His dorm tower was locked with key-card access. She didn't have one.
But she had something better—nerve.
She waited for one of the freshman soccer guys to come down, tossed her jacket over her shoulder, smiled like sin, and said, "Forgot my key. You mind?"
He stammered and opened the door.
Emily didn't knock. She walked straight into Luke Caldwell's suite and found him alone, shirtless, pacing.
He didn't look surprised.
"You saw it?" he asked.
"The banner? Yeah," she said, folding her arms. "Classy move. Your sister's work?"
Luke nodded once.
"She hates you," he said simply. "But not as much as she hates losing."
Emily's eyes narrowed. "And you?"
He met her gaze. "I don't know what I feel about you, Emily Hale."
She stepped closer. "Try harder."
Silence.
Then: "I had your back last night. That USB could ruin my father's career."
"And it should."
"He's still my father."
"And my father's still gone."
Their voices were low, dangerous.
Tension strung between them like piano wire.
Then Luke said something he hadn't meant to say:
"You scare me. Because you make me want to burn everything I was born to protect."
Emily didn't speak. She leaned forward, brushed her lips over his cheek, and whispered:
"Then strike the match."
---
By evening, Crestwood was a different place.
The legacy club denied Emily entry — again.
She wasn't on the guest list. She wasn't "approved."
She stood outside in her coat, watching the rich kids file inside with their sequins and secrets.
Brielle walked past her, laughing, brushing Emily's shoulder as she passed.
"Still trying, I see," she said. "Pathetic."
Emily didn't respond.
Not with words.
She waited until the party was at its peak, then triggered the code Luke had given her.
Within seconds, every screen in the building — the bar TVs, the glass room monitors, even the sound system's LED display — started showing the files from the USB.
Student bribes. Quiet expulsions. Photos. Signatures.
A corruption map of Crestwood, bleeding out in real time.
Screams.
Shouting.
Phones snapping pictures.
Emily didn't stay to watch.
She turned and walked away from the building as fire alarms started blaring.
She didn't start a fire — but she poured the gasoline.
---
Later that night, she met Luke in the greenhouse behind the old library.
It was empty, lit by a single flickering bulb, overgrown with roses no one watered anymore.
Luke was already waiting.
"I didn't tell you to do that," he said.
"No," Emily replied. "But you didn't stop me either."
He looked at her like someone realizing his enemy had become the most honest person he knew.
"You'll be expelled," he said.
"Maybe. But not before they know the truth."
He stepped closer. "You're fearless."
"No," she said. "I'm furious."
And he kissed her.
Hard.
Like he hated her for making him feel.
Like he couldn't stop even if it destroyed them both.
---
They didn't talk much after.
Just lay there on the old garden bench, under vines and broken glass.
She asked, "Do you think your father knows?"
Luke replied, "He always knows."
Emily stared at the ceiling. "Then let him come."
---
By morning, the academy was in chaos.
Posts were flying across Crestwood forums. Alumni were calling. Professors were denying everything. President Caldwell issued a formal statement denying "the legitimacy of digitally altered materials." But it was too late.
The students believed it.
And that made it real.
Emily Hale had cracked the shell of Crestwood — now it was only a matter of time before it shattered completely.
---
Brielle wasn't done.
She cornered Emily in the bathroom later that day, where the scent of rose water masked the venom in her voice.
"You think you've won something?"
Emily looked at her in the mirror. "Not yet."
Brielle stepped closer, lips at her ear. "Luke doesn't love you. He just wants to feel something. And when that burns out — and it will — you'll be nothing again."
Emily smiled.
"You think I need him to love me?"
Brielle blinked.
"I don't want love," Emily said softly. "I want revenge."
And she walked out, heels clicking on tile, leaving only silence behind.
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