CHAPTER 20 — Navira's POV
"I Don't Start Fires. I Just Watch People Walk Into Them."
Two days after the dinner, our house is still shaking from shock.
The mock results I dropped like a bombshell?
Yeah. Still echoing in every Aurline brain cell.
Vivienne keeps smiling at me like she won the genetic lottery.
Victor walks around calling me "my brilliant girl" like it's a prayer.
Alden and Alastair? They keep scanning me like:
"What else is she hiding?"
And Agnes… Agnes hasn't recovered.
She spent breakfast staring into her cereal like it insulted her GPA.
Honestly?
I'm having fun.
And speaking of Agnes — she's plotting.
Hard.
I can tell because she's been too quiet and too polite.
Rule 1 of Manipulators:
Silence means they're building a bomb.
And Agnes? She's building a whole nuclear missile.
Lunch Break — The Confrontation Begins
I'm walking toward the courtyard.
Alone on purpose.
I like being alone. It lets me hear things people don't want me to hear.
Like the sound of expensive heels clicking behind me.
Agnes.
She storms up, grabs my wrist dramatically, and shoves me toward a locked stairwell.
Her face is tight, fake sweet.
"Navira," she says, voice sugary-poison,
"I want to talk. Sister to sister."
Oh no.
Here we go again.
I tilt my head. "Is this about you being mad that I scored higher than you?"
Her eyes flash. "No. It's about you ruining everything."
I blink innocently. "Everything? Agnes, you barely have anything worth ruining."
She bites her lip, furious.
Then she drops her bomb:
"I know you don't belong here. You should've stayed in your stupid little orphanage."
Ah.
There it is.
She steps closer.
"If you like your life," she hisses,
"you'll pack your bags and go back. Understand? Because someone wants to talk to you."
Someone?
I don't have to guess long.
Footsteps echo behind her.
Huge. Heavy.
Aggressive.
The school bully.
Tall, dumb, heart-shaped eyes for Agnes.
He looks at me like I'm a target on a dartboard.
Agnes smiles proudly.
"Break her," she orders softly.
"Make sure she can't walk for a few weeks."
The bully cracks his knuckles.
Agnes thinks this will scare me.
How adorable.
The Fight (That Wasn't Really a Fight)
He lunges.
Fast.
But I'm faster.
Years in the orphanage taught me many things:
Don't trust anyone.
Don't show weakness.
And most importantly:
If someone tries to hurt you, make sure they regret it.
He swings.
I duck.
He grabs for my shoulder.
I twist his wrist.
He yelps — loudly — shocked that I even touched him, let alone countered.
Agnes's face goes pale.
The bully tries again with a wild shove meant to slam me into the wall.
I step aside.
He slams into the wall instead.
Hard.
He drops to his knees, groaning.
I stare at him.
Calm. Bored.
"You done?" I ask.
He doesn't answer.
Because he's busy questioning his entire life.
Agnes?
She looks like she's about to faint.
I walk toward her slowly.
She backs up instantly.
"W-What are you doing?" she stammers.
I crack my knuckles just to mess with her.
"Agnes," I say sweetly,
"You should never order someone to break me unless you brought someone who actually can."
She swallows.
I raise my fist —
—
And THAT is when someone grabs my arm.
Hard.
Alden.
Crap.
I forgot they go to this school.
Alastair is right behind him, eyes sharp and furious.
"What the hell are you doing, Navira?" Alden snaps.
Agnes immediately jumps into actress mode.
"She—she attacked me!" she wails, even though I haven't touched her.
Oh but then—
She trips backward dramatically and falls on her butt.
Peach-first.
She drags her palm across her forehead with her nails — just enough to make a thin scratch.
Then she screams:
"NAVIRA, I'M SORRY!"
Oh she's good.
Not good enough, but good.
The twins look at me like:
"Explain. NOW."
I sigh.
"Fine."
I reach into my pocket and pull out my tiny recording device.
I always keep it on.
Always.
I press play.
Agnes's voice fills the stairwell:
"Break her… Make sure she can't walk…"
Alden's jaw drops.
Alastair goes red with anger — not at me, at the situation.
Agnes freezes.
She looks like I just read her search history out loud.
I tilt my head.
"Any comments?"
She sputters. "I—I just meant—"
Then the bully tries to stand, slips, bumps into Agnes—
bonk
She gets hit in the nose.
Not bleeding everywhere — just enough to look bad.
She screams.
Perfect.
Alden covers his face with his hand like he's aging ten years.
Alastair mutters, "We have to take her to the hospital…"
Of course they do.
Hospital Time — My Next Step
As we walk toward the school gates, Agnes limping dramatically, I can feel something sweet rising in my chest.
Power.
Because Agnes got hurt in her own trap.
Because the twins have evidence.
Because the parents will ask questions.
And because I already know what I'll say.
Something soft.
Something sad.
Something that melts Victor and Vivienne instantly:
"Back in the orphanage, people tried to hurt me too…"
Oh they're going to EAT IT UP.
The chapter ends here — because the next chapter?
The hospital.
The Aureline parents.
Agnes sniffling.
The twins tense.
And me?
Smiling politely…
while planning my next move.