The grand ballroom sparkled under a sea of crystal chandeliers, every surface polished to a mirror shine. Silk gowns brushed marble floors. Men in tuxedos sipped champagne, their laughter ringing too loud, too forced. All eyes were on Seraphina Vale, the golden girl of Crestwood Academy, as she floated through the crowd like a queen in her element.
But beneath the smile she wore like armor, Seraphina's pulse hammered in her ears.
Tonight was supposed to be perfect her eighteenth birthday, the night she'd officially be crowned the academy's princess. Pampered by all, adored by every whispering clique. Yet the weight of expectations felt like a noose tightening around her neck.
Her father's voice echoed faintly in her mind, "Remember, Seraphina, they love the crown, not the girl."
A subtle shiver crawled down her spine.
Seraphina slipped away from the chatter, weaving toward the private study tucked behind a velvet curtain. She wasn't supposed to be here too risky but a notification flashed on her phone, an anonymous email with a subject that made her stomach drop: "The Truth About Lila Carter."
Lila Carter the student who died last year under suspicious circumstances everyone pretended to forget.
Hands trembling, Seraphina opened the email. Photos. Documents. Proof of a cover-up buried by the academy's top brass.
Her breath caught.
Suddenly, the lights flickered. The music stuttered and died. Whispers turned to nervous murmurs. The grand doors slammed shut with a hollow boom.
A cold, distorted voice crackled through the intercom:
"Princess Vale, drop the secrets, or watch your perfect world burn."
The crowd froze.
Eyes locked on Seraphina some wide with shock, others narrowing with accusation.
Her perfect night was over.