Mr. Bernier did not answer immediately.
Instead, he looked at Olivia.
"Who is Erik Voss?"
Olivia went pale.
Not embarrassed. Not angry.
Pale.
Her grandmother's expression turned cold.
"Olivia," she said, "answer him."
Olivia's hand gripped the edge of the bench so hard her knuckles whitened.
And that was when Claudia, her closest friend, took one step backward.
"Oh my God," Claudia whispered. "You said Erik deleted it."
Claudia covered her mouth the instant she realized what she had said.
But the words had already landed.
Olivia turned on her. "Shut up."
It was not loud, but it was vicious enough to make Claudia flinch.
Mr. Bernier pointed toward the hall. "Claudia, office. Now."
"No," Olivia snapped. "She doesn't know anything."
Mrs. Kingsley's cane tapped once against the floor.
"Then you should not be frightened of what she says."
That was the first moment I saw Olivia truly panic.
Not the performance kind. Not the trembling-lip act she used when teachers asked her simple questions. This was raw. Her eyes moved from the clipboard to the envelope to the students outside the glass, calculating which door was still open.
There wasn't one.
Claudia walked out with Mr. Bernier. Everyone watched her through the fogged greenhouse wall as she crossed the courtyard, head down, cardigan sleeves pulled over her hands.
The rest of us were told to remain.
Ms. Halberg asked the class to sit on the low wooden benches between the plant tables. Nobody argued. Even the students who usually joked through everything stayed silent.
I sat beside Mateo. My cheek had stopped burning, but now the rest of me felt cold.
"You okay?" he murmured.
I nodded.
He did not believe me, but he did not push.
Across the room, Olivia sat alone under the hanging ivy, her plaid skirt perfectly arranged, her hair clip still shining under the greenhouse lights. She looked like a picture in a school brochure. Except her fingers would not stop shaking.
Twenty minutes later, Mr. Bernier returned with Claudia.
Claudia's face was red from crying.
Behind them walked a man I did not recognize, carrying a school laptop. He wore a maintenance badge and had dirt on his boots.
"This is Mr. Voss," Mr. Bernier said. "Grounds and greenhouse systems."
Erik Voss.
Olivia stared at the floor.
Mr. Voss looked deeply uncomfortable. "I didn't know what she was using it for."
Mrs. Kingsley's voice was quiet. "Using what?"
He opened the laptop and turned it toward Mr. Bernier.
"The greenhouse entry log has staff override notes. Students can't edit them, but I can. Olivia asked me to correct what she called a 'mistake' in the sign-out time."
Ms. Halberg pressed a hand to her chest.
Mr. Bernier asked, "Why would you do that?"
Mr. Voss looked at Mrs. Kingsley, then away.
"She said the Kingsley family would make sure my seasonal contract became permanent."
Olivia stood so fast the ivy above her trembled.
"That's a lie."
Claudia sobbed once.
Then she pulled out her phone.
Her hand shook as she unlocked it.
"I kept the screenshot," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I got scared."
Olivia lunged toward her.
Mateo moved first, stepping between them.
Mr. Bernier's voice cracked like a door slamming.
"Olivia Kingsley, sit down."
Claudia turned the phone around.
On the screen was Olivia's message.
Change the log or Aaliyah ruins everything. Make it look like she touched the labels first.
The school did not explode immediately.
It folded inward.
That was worse.
Nobody screamed. Nobody ran. Nobody even whispered for a few seconds. They just stared at the glowing phone in Claudia's hand while the truth sat there in black letters.
Make it look like she touched the labels first.
My name looked strange inside Olivia's message, like it had been stolen from me.
Aaliyah.
Not a person. A target.
Ms. Halberg covered her mouth.
Mr. Voss looked sick.
Mrs. Kingsley closed her eyes for one long breath, and when she opened them again, she looked older than she had when she entered.
Olivia's voice cracked. "I didn't mean—"
I laughed.
It surprised everyone, including me.
It was not a funny laugh. It was small and broken and came from somewhere I had been trying to lock shut since the slap.
"You didn't mean to get caught," I said.
Olivia stared at me as if I had finally broken the rule she trusted most: staying quiet.
Mr. Bernier asked for my statement. He asked gently, but every word felt like walking over glass. I told him I had noticed the label switch during morning check. I told him I had compared the tray to the official seedling list. I told him I asked Ms. Halberg to verify before the younger students arrived tomorrow.
Then I told him something I had not said before.