Frustrated, I grabbed a large drawing sheet from my desk and spread it across the bed before carefully sketching three separate triangles.
Inside the first triangle, I wrote: Andrew.
Inside the second: Nafisat.
Inside the third, after a brief hesitation, I added: Vivian.
I stared at the three names for a long moment before sitting down beside the paper. My head felt heavy, almost like every thought inside it was pressing down on me at once, yet I could not stop myself from going over everything again. Every conversation, every strange reaction, every half-truth and silence kept replaying in my mind like scattered pieces of a puzzle that refused to form a complete picture.
I could not help the thought that slipped in next.
Are they all working together… lying to me just to keep me away from the truth?
I immediately shook it off, as though doing so could physically remove it from my mind, and then slowly picked up my pen again, moving it toward Andrew's triangle first.
As I wrote beneath his name, I found myself reading the words silently.
He claimed he saw Emma leave the classroom, only to later see her body being taken away on a stretcher.
I paused.
That detail alone did not sit right with me. How could he have seen both moments so clearly if Emma had already been taken to the clinic? Unless there had been a gap in time that no one was talking about, his story simply did not align with reality.
My grip tightened slightly on the pen before I continued.
And then there was the kiss.
The memory surfaced so suddenly that my breath caught for a second. It replayed in my head with unsettling clarity, the warmth of it still lingering in a way that made my thoughts blur.
It had felt real.
Too real.
Almost carefully placed, like it was meant to linger in my mind longer than it should.
But what if that was exactly the intention?
What if he had done it not out of emotion, but as a distraction… something to anchor himself inside my thoughts while everything else around us was falling apart?
I exhaled sharply and forced myself to look away from Andrew's triangle, dragging my attention instead to Vivian's.
The moment my eyes settled on her name, my suspicion deepened even further.
What if Vivian was working for Fitball?
The thought alone made my chest tighten, because the truth was simple—she knew too much. Far too much for someone who was supposed to be just another student. In fact, she sometimes sounded like she knew more than Mr. Thompson himself.
My brows furrowed as new questions began to rise one after another.
How had she discovered the light bulb passage?
And more importantly, why did she always seem one step ahead, as though she had already seen everything that was about to happen?
My pen hovered again before I wrote slowly beneath her name.
She calls herself a goddess jokingly… but what if she enjoys control more than she admits?
A faint chill ran down my spine the moment I finished the sentence.
The room suddenly felt quieter, heavier, like even the air had changed.
I swallowed and shifted my focus again, this time toward Nafisat's triangle.
This one confused me the most.
Nafi had insisted she never received another letter.
I stared at that thought for a long moment before continuing it in my mind.
If she was telling the truth, then Vivian was lying.
And that realization made something uncomfortable tighten inside my chest.
Because if Vivian truly lied…
Then why?
But if Nafisat was the one lying instead…
Then what exactly was she hiding from me?
I leaned back slowly, my eyes fixed on the three triangles spread across the bed as my thoughts continued to spiral without direction.
Andrew.
Vivian.
Nafisat.
At that moment, I no longer knew who I could trust anymore.
The next morning, I got dressed slowly, though my mind was still heavy with everything that had happened the day before. I stood for a moment at my door before finally reaching for the handle and stepping out into the hallway.
That was when I noticed it.
The guards were gone.
I stopped immediately, frozen in confusion, and looked around the corridor. I walked a few steps forward, then back again, just to be sure I was not imagining it, but there was no sign of them anywhere.
No footsteps. No voices. Nothing. They were really gone. It was so hard to believe.
Before I could fully process it, I spotted Vivian running toward me from a distance.
The moment she reached me, she pulled me into a tight hug.
"I heard you were released," she said quickly, almost out of breath.
I hesitated for a second before returning the hug lightly, still trying to understand what was happening.
We began walking together down the corridor, her arm still loosely linked with mine as though nothing strange was going on.
"Emma has been sent home for proper care," Vivian said casually after a moment.
I turned to her immediately.
"Sent home?" I repeated.
It did not make sense, because the school gates only opened once a year, and that was during graduation and the entry of new students. Everyone knew that. No student just left in the middle of everything, not under normal circumstances.
"What happened?" I asked, my voice lower now.
Vivian shrugged slightly as we walked.
"Also, the Principal said I should tell you that your labour of punishment has been lifted," she said, then continued, "and your name has been cleared."
My brows furrowed.
"That doesn't sound right… it wasn't the cupcake, was it?" I asked.
Vivian shook her head quickly.
"No," she replied. "It wasn't that."
I studied her face carefully, trying to read something, anything, but she looked unusually calm, with no sign of pressure.
We continued walking, but my unease only grew stronger. Then I asked the question that had been bothering me since yesterday.
"Did you know Emma received a letter?"
Vivian nodded.
"I found out late as well."
After a few seconds, Vivian glanced around as though making sure no one was listening before she leaned slightly closer.
"The light bulbs in most rooms are used to transport information," she said quietly.
I slowed my steps.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
She exhaled softly like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"You disconnect the wire from the source, then wrap the paper tightly around the wire and send it through. It travels through the system to the next connected room."
My heart skipped slightly.
So that was how the messages moved. That was brilliant.
Then Vivian added something that made my stomach tighten.
"I have the school plan; that is how I know which is which," she said.
I stopped walking. My eyes widened slightly as I turned to her fully.
"How?" I asked immediately.
Vivian smiled.
Then, almost casually, she said, "I stole it." She said, then laughed—a low, strange cackle.
By this time, we were already in the school area, and I did not even notice because no one was staring at me.
I dragged Vivian into the janitor's closet with me.
"Oh, why?" Vivian asked, smiling.
"Shut up… " I said looking at her face to be sure she did not see it as an offense. "I met Nafi yesterday and she said she didn't get any letter."
The expression on Vivian's face dulled, like she was disappointed. "What happened?"
"You know what… gossip can't be fully trusted," Vivian replied.I was not expecting that answer from her, not at all.
"Tell me the truth," I added this time.
"You won't believe me anyway," Vivian replied, then opened the door. "Trust your guts," she added before leaving.
After a while, I opened the door, grabbed some books from my locker, then walked toward class. On my way, I could not help but think:
"My guts… my divided guts. Vivian is good at her job but…" I muttered. "Nafi won't lie to me…"
As I made that statement, I paused.
During the ceremony for the Biology teacher, Nafi said I was not in my room when she came, but I was right there. Strike one.
She has been so distant lately… Strike two.
Now she did not get any letter?
If my memory serves me correctly, the principal said the letter was sent like a timer… and even if it was a prank, the person would want to follow up.
Why should I believe she is not lying to me?
I entered the class still worried. However, Emma's minions kept staring at me, but thank God, I was not interested in whatever hatred they had to offer today.
I sat at my seat, placed my head on the table…
Then someone knocked on my table.
I raised my head.
It was Jason.