SIGNY
Wednesday, 7:00 AM
“What are we going to do if it leaks?” I demand, staring at Mr. Gill.
He's sitting comfortably on the couch in his office, one arm stretched along the backrest as if we're discussing something as trivial as the weather instead of a disaster waiting to happen.
The moment the admin sends that photo to the group chat, I know it's me. Even though the image is censored, I recognize it immediately. Every nerve in my body tells me that it's us. Since then, panic has been clawing at my chest, making it difficult to think straight.
I can't admit it in the group chat. I can't be the one to confess.
Who would willingly expose themselves like that?
My mind keeps replaying what happened to Cleovon. First, the admin posted a censored video. Then, without warning, they released the uncensored version for everyone to see.
What if the same thing happens to me?
The possibility alone is enough to drive me insane. Meanwhile, this man looks completely unbothered.
Mr. Gill lets out a slow sigh and rubs his temple. “Just calm down, okay?” he says. “Why are you so afraid of that group chat?”
I stare at him in disbelief. “Because it exposes people's secrets!”
“How do you know that's even us in the photo?”
“Look.” I quickly unlock my phone and shove it toward him.
The censored image fills the screen. Two figures stand close together, their hands intertwined. The picture is grainy and obviously taken from a distance, but I don't need a clearer view. I know my own silhouette and I know his.
Mr. Gill barely glances at the photo before pushing my hand away. He rises from the couch and casually walks toward the coffee maker in the corner of the room.
The rich aroma of coffee fills the office as he grabs a mug.
“Did you come all the way here just to show me that?” he asks.
I blink at him. “Are you serious?”
“There's no way anyone can tell it's us.”
His indifferent tone makes my blood boil.
“How can you be so sure? This photo proves that someone knows about us!” I exclaim.
Frustrated, I sit on the chair and run a hand through my hair.
“Why are you acting so calm?” I ask. “Unless...” I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you the one behind this group chat?”
Mr. Gill lets out a quiet laugh. “Why would I create a group chat just to expose myself?” He picks up his mug and takes a sip. “Dear, I'd be ruining my own life if I did that.”
I hate that he's making sense. Still, that doesn't solve our problem.
“Exactly,” I say, pointing at him. “Your life would be ruined too, so help me get rid of this group chat.” My voice rises with every word.
“What happens when your family finds out?” I continue. “What if they see the photos? Aren't you scared at all?”
Mr. Gill falls silent. His hand freezes around the mug. Then, with deliberate slowness, he sets it down on the counter.
He turns toward me. The calm, indifferent expression he has been wearing all this time disappears, replaced by something colder.
His eyes lock onto mine. “Are you blackmailing me?” he asks quietly.
I roll my eyes in frustration and throw my hands up in the air.
"Oh my gosh, can you please just help me?" I snap. "You're good at coding, aren't you? Just destroy the group chat, and everything goes back to normal. Neither my family nor yours will ever find out about this."
A smug smile tugs at the corner of his lips.
Without saying a word, he pushes himself away from his coffee maker and walks toward me. The closer he gets, the tighter my chest feels.
Before I can step back, his hand shoots out and grabs my chin.
"Don't you dare talk about my family," he says, his voice low and commanding.
Pain immediately shoots through my jaw. My eyes sting as I wince. He's gripping my chin far too hard.
"It hurts..." I manage to say through clenched teeth.
For a brief second, something flickers across his face. He lets go.
I stumble back and rub my aching jaw while he turns away from me as if nothing happened. He walks over to his coffee maker and resumes what he was doing.
"Leave my office," he says flatly. "I don't have time for your games."
Anger surges through me. I shoot to my feet so quickly that the chair nearly topples over.
"I'm not playing around!" I shout. "Our lives literally depend on that photo! If it gets leaked, you won't be able to teach here anymore, and who knows what will happen to me?"
He glances at me over his shoulder.
The look in his eyes is cold. Disgusted. As if I'm nothing more than a nuisance.
"Signy," he says firmly. "I said leave."
My hands curl into fists at my sides. "Why can't you believe me?"
His jaw tightens. "Because you're being paranoid."
"I'm not paranoid!"
"Leave," he says sharply. "Or I'll drag you out myself."
The room falls silent.
I stare at him, waiting for even the slightest hint that he's joking. Waiting for him to tell me that everything will be fine. Waiting for him to finally understand how serious this is.
But his expression never changes. If anything, he looks even more annoyed.
The realization hits me like a slap across the face.
Slowly, I grab my bag from the floor and sling it over my shoulder. My fingers tighten around it as I head for the door.
I don't bother looking back.
The moment I step into the hallway, I shove the door shut behind me.
How can he not believe me?
After everything I've done for him. After every order I've followed without question, after all the secrets I've kept, this is how he treats me?
Like I'm crazy. Like I'm making everything up.
A bitter laugh catches in my throat.
I practically obey him like a dog, and when I finally need his help, he turns his back on me without a second thought.
Fine.
When everything falls apart, don't expect me to help you.
My vision blurs as I make my way to the comfort room.
The hallways feel strangely empty, and every passing second makes my anxiety worse.
Once inside, I lock myself inside one of the cubicles and sink onto the closed toilet seat.
The tears I've been holding back spill down my cheeks. I wipe them away, but more keep coming.
My phone rests tightly in my trembling hands as I wait for the admin to send the photo.
Deep down, I know I'm clinging to false hope. I keep telling myself that maybe I'm wrong. Maybe the photo isn't about me. Maybe the admin won't post it after all.
But I know better. I know whoever is behind that group chat isn't going to stop now.
Sooner or later, that photo will appear in the chat for everyone to see. And when it does, the life I've worked so hard to keep together will begin to fall apart piece by piece.
I wait, clinging desperately to the small hope that somehow nothing will happen. Every second feels unbearably slow as I stare at the screen of my phone. The clock continues ticking until it finally reaches 7:57 AM.
The moment I see the time, a notification from the group chat pops up on my screen.
With trembling fingers, I tap the notification and wait for the chat to load.
The moment it opens, my blood runs cold. Photos of me and Mr. Gill fill the screen.
Without thinking, I throw my phone onto the floor. The device crashes against the tiles with a sharp crack, but I don't care whether the screen breaks or not. Right now, a damaged phone is the least of my worries.
How am I supposed to go to class after this? How am I supposed to face everyone?
If I had known things would end up like this, I never would have started a relationship with him in the first place.
Part of me knows I'm at fault. I know he already has a family. I know I should have walked away the moment I learned the truth. But he keeps giving me attention. He keeps making me feel special. He makes me believe that what we have is something real—something mature. And I fall for it. Now I'm paying the price.
After crying until my eyes burn and my head throbs, I force myself to get ready. No matter how much I want to disappear, I can't skip class. I already have enough academic problems as it is. The last thing I need is another failing subject.
By the time I arrive at the classroom, it's already 8:20 AM.
I stop outside the classroom door and take a deep breath. My hand trembles as I reach for the doorknob. When I finally push the door open, the room instantly falls silent.
Every pair of eyes turns toward me. Some students whisper behind their hands. Others stare openly, their expressions filled with judgment and disgust. A few look almost excited, as if they're watching a drama unfold right in front of them.
The rumors have already spread. The photo has done its job.
I keep my gaze forward and pretend not to notice the looks being thrown at me. Even though it feels like hundreds of knives are piercing through my skin, I force my feet to keep moving until I reach my seat.
I sit down without saying a word.
My eyes stay fixed on the front of the classroom, but my mind is somewhere far away, drifting without direction as if it has completely disconnected from the room around me. I don’t even realize that the bell has already rung, signaling the start of lunch break. It only registers when my classmates suddenly start packing up their things and rushing out of their seats in a hurry.
I remain sitting in my seat even after everyone else has left, feeling no urge to move and no appetite to join them outside. The classroom slowly grows quieter, until only the faint sounds from the hallway seep through the slightly open door.
A few minutes later, a staff member steps inside, pausing just after entering as he scans the room. His gaze eventually settles directly on me, as if he has already been expecting to find me still there.
"Signy, please come with me,” he says.
Without arguing, I stand and follow him out of the room. I already know what this is about.
We're almost at the detention room when the door suddenly opens. Cleovon, Cyprus, Ciela, and Huxlee step out one after another. At the same time, several professors walk past them and head inside as if a meeting is about to begin.
Just as I'm about to enter the room, a hand suddenly wraps around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.
"Signy. Babe…”
I don't need to turn around to know who it is.
I slowly look over my shoulder and find Cleovon staring at me. Worry fills his eyes, and his grip on my wrist is gentle, as if he's afraid I might break apart at any moment.
Without saying a word, I pull my hand free from his grasp and keep my eyes fixed ahead. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I step into the room, leaving him standing behind me. Following me, the staff member who fetched me from class closes the door with a heavy click.
My eyes sweep across the faces gathered inside. Mr. Ford sits at the center of the room, his expression unreadable. Several professors are seated beside him, all watching me with varying degrees of disappointment and curiosity. Then my gaze lands on the person I least want to see—Mr. Gill.
The moment our eyes meet, a cold knot forms in my stomach.