Shawn came running.
"Raha — what happened?"
She kept walking.
He grabbed her hand.
Stopped.
"That's Rohan's shirt."
She looked at him.
Just looked.
Said nothing.
Rohan came down the stairs.
Without his shirt.
The entire corridor held its breath.
One whisper.
Then another.
Then the whole school —
"He gave her his shirt."
"Rohan gave Raha his shirt."
Rabina stood very still.
Her eyes found him across the crowd.
And burned.
Rohan crossed the corridor.
Took Raha's hand from Shawn without a word.
And walked her to the stage.
Teachers. Principal. Director.
All of them already assembled.
All of them watching.
Mr. Watson saw his son from across the hall —
Shirtless.
Raha's hand in his.
"Rohan Watson," he said, his voice dangerously low. "What are you doing?"
Rohan didn't answer him.
Raha tried to pull her hand away.
He held tighter.
He turned to face the school.
All of it.
Every single face.
And spoke.
"I am Rohan Watson."
Steady. Clear. Carrying.
"Son of the school director."
He pulled Raha gently forward.
"And she—"
He looked at her for just one second.
"She is Raha. A student of this school."
A pause.
"Actually—"
His voice didn't waver.
"I'm sorry. This is not a school."
"This is hell."
"A hell where we study."
Every teacher turned to look at Mr. Watson.
"ROHAN." Mr. Watson stepped forward. "Have you lost your mind—"
Rohan reached into his pocket.
Pulled out his phone.
Threw it.
Subin caught it without thinking.
"Record this," Rohan said.
Subin looked at the phone.
Then at Rohan.
Then pressed record.
"Everyone is looking at me right now," Rohan said. "Wondering where my shirt is."
Silence.
Complete, absolute silence.
"Why I gave it to Raha."
He let the question sit in the air for a moment.
"Today — in this school — in this building — Raha was harassed."
His voice didn't rise.
It didn't need to.
"Kevin Stone. Sam Stone. They harassed her."
He looked at the crowd.
"And the ones responsible—"
A breath.
"Rabina Manoban. Grace Ray. Bella Watson."
Another breath.
"And me."
"Rohan Watson."
"Not just today. Meena Lee's case — we are responsible for that too."
The hall erupted.
Raha stood completely still beside him.
Not moving.
Not breathing properly.
Mr. Watson charged onto the stage.
"Are you out of your mind? What are you saying?"
Rabina spun toward Subin.
"Stop recording—"
"Never."
One word.
Final.
Mr. Watson grabbed Rohan by the arm—
And slapped him.
The sound cut through everything.
Every voice died.
"All of this," Mr. Watson said, his voice shaking with fury, "is because of this girl."
Rohan's head turned slowly back to face forward.
He didn't let go of Raha's hand.
Not for a second.
Mr. Watson turned to Raha.
"You—"
Raha shoved him.
Both hands.
Hard.
Without flinching.
Mr. Watson raised his hand—
Rohan stepped in front of her.
"What do you want, Baba?"
Quiet now.
Almost gentle.
"The truth was always going to come out. One day or another."
He looked at his father — really looked at him — for a long moment.
"Think about Raha. Just once. She lost everything. Because of Rabina and her friends."
"WHAT?"
Rabina's voice cracked across the hall.
"Because of us?"
Rohan turned to face her.
"Yes."
"SHUT UP." Her voice rose. "We haven't done anything to Raha—"
"She lost her mother," Rohan said simply. "Because of you."
Grace stepped forward.
"Choose your words carefully," she said, her voice controlled. "How exactly are we responsible?"
Bella cut in.
Smooth. Calm. Practiced.
"Raha's mother died in a car accident," she said. "Don't stand there and tell me we caused that."
Raha stood very still.
Listening to every word.
Processing every word.
Shawn couldn't hold it.
"That's exactly what you said about Meena," he said. "Same words. Same tone."
"SHUT UP."
Rabina rounded on him — fast, furious.
"If you don't know anything — stay out of it. We are NOT responsible for Raha's mother's death."
She looked at all of them.
One by one.
"And I'll say it again — we are not responsible for Ms. Garcia either. Yes. We bullied her."
A pause.
"But—"
"What about Meena?"
Subin's voice.
Quiet.
Dangerous.
Grace turned. "How would we even—"
Subin stepped toward her.
"We have evidence."
Rabina looked at him.
"Show it."
Subin looked at Raha.
"Raha saw you. She watched you bully Meena."
Rabina turned.
Slowly.
Her eyes landed on Raha.
And stayed there.
"Did you," she said, her voice dropping to something soft and cold, "watch us kill Meena?"
A pause.
"And your mother's death—"
She tilted her head.
"We had nothing to do with that."
"Got it?"
The hall waited.
Every single person.
Every eye on Raha.
She stood in the middle of all of it —
Rohan's shirt on her shoulders.
Blood dried on her temple.
Rohan's hand in hers.
And said nothing.
Because she never could.
But her eyes—
Her eyes said everything.