Chapter 3
"I didn't do it," I said, steady and clear. "And I can prove it."
I turned to Maya.
"You locked me in. You laughed while I pounded on the door. And while I was trapped inside… you snuck in and ruined the script. All so you could take my place."
"Proof?" Maya snapped. "You have none."
I looked at the ink blots. Fresh, wet, glistening under the lights.
"This ink is still damp," I said. "If I had done it before breaking the door down, it would have dried by now. But it was done minutes ago. While I was locked inside."
I stepped closer.
"And look at your hands."
Maya flinched. Hid her right hand behind her back.
"Ink on your fingers," I said. "And on your sleeve. The exact same shade."
The principal stepped forward. Gently pulled her hand into view.
May you like
Blue ink stained her fingertips. Dark and unmistakable.
The director’s expression shifted—from anger to horror.
