The school courtyard felt strangely quiet that morning, as if the air itself was waiting for something to break. Sierra walked through the gates with her hood pulled low, trying to ignore the eyes that lingered just a second too long.
People weren't whispering as loudly as before—but the silence felt worse.
Jenna caught up to her first. "Good, you're early. We need to—Sierra? You didn't sleep again."
"I'm fine," Sierra lied.
Jenna gave her a look that clearly meant: No, you're not. But before she could push further, Vivian arrived—breathless, anxious, clutching her phone.
"They've started again," Vivian said, voice low. "New posts. More organized this time."
Sierra exhaled slowly. Of course they had. Yesterday's small victory—exposing part of the smear campaign—had only rattled the hive. It hadn't stopped anything.
"Who's posting now?" Sierra asked.
Vivian swallowed. "Anonymous accounts. But the phrasing… it's coordinated. Someone's guiding them."
"Someone big," Jenna added. "This isn't random hate. We're dealing with people who understand how to manipulate a crowd."
Sierra didn't need to guess who those "people" were. She already had one name in mind—one she wished wasn't involved.
But before she could answer, Leon approached.
Hand in his pocket, expression unreadable.
He looked like he'd barely slept either.
"We need to talk," he said quietly, eyes focused only on her.
Jenna and Vivian exchanged a quick glance but stepped away, giving them space.
Leon lowered his voice. "I did some digging last night. I found something… and it's bad."
Sierra's heart tightened. "What is it?"
Leon hesitated—a rare thing for him. Then he showed her his phone.
A spreadsheet. Rows of transactions. Anonymous payments.
Several tied directly to the media accounts attacking her.
And the sender field…
Sierra's stomach dropped.
"This can't be real," she whispered.
Leon's jaw clenched. "I triple-checked."
The sender wasn't a stranger.
It was Chen Corporation.
And the authorized account—
belonged to her mother.
Suddenly the courtyard noise vanished. The students, the whispers, the sunlight—they all faded into a ringing void.
Her mother.Her own mother.
Funding the smear campaign that was destroying her.
Sierra felt her breath stutter.
"She wouldn't…" The words barely escaped. "She would never…"
"Sierra," Leon said gently, "I don't think she had a choice."
His voice held something unreadable—empathy, maybe, or regret. "This looks like a larger cover-up. Bigger than your dad's case. Bigger than what we assumed."
Her vision blurred for a moment.
A betrayal wrapped in necessity.A truth wrapped in a lie.
"Sierra—" Leon reached out, but she stepped back.
"I need time," she whispered. "Just… time to think."
Leon didn't try to stop her. He simply nodded, eyes soft but heavy with concern.
As Sierra walked away, the weight of everything pressed against her ribs.
Truth wasn't supposed to feel like this.
But she had no choice now.
If the shadows were tightening around her—
She would have to walk straight into them.
And find the hand pulling every string.