When she reached her classroom, Lilith stood at the entrance for a moment.
Her desk had been covered in marker. Different handwriting, different colours, overlapping words, she could have ignored most of it. But the word written largest, right in the centre, was the one word she had been reading about all morning.
WITCH.
That word triggered something in her.
Then she remembered a quote she had read once, a long time ago, and held onto ever since for moments exactly like this one;
"The most powerful response is sometimes no response at all".
Laughter rippled through the room. Even some of the people who had looked at her with pity that morning were smiling now. Lilith walked to her desk and sat down, directly on top of the word, like it meant absolutely nothing.
The laughter faded slowly, disappointed.
Belle noticed. And because the silence annoyed her more than any reaction would have, she got up.
Jasmine caught her hand. "Let it go."
Belle pulled free. "Don't tell me you already have a soft spot for her."
"You know I don't."
"Then let me do what I do best."
Jasmine sighed. "Alright."
Belle walked over and leaned against Lilith's desk.
"Does it feel familiar? Since that's apparently what you are."
More laughter.
Lilith opened her textbook.
"Nothing to say?" Belle pressed. "Wow. And here I thought you had that famous fiery nature of yours."
Lilith turned a page.
"You know what I think?" Belle continued, louder now, performing for the room. "I think you're finally starting to understand your place. Scholarship student. No real friends. No family that actually wants her. Just a sad little —"
"Your mother," Lilith said quietly, not looking up from her book.
The whole class went still.
"Excuse me?" Belle said.
Lilith looked up. Her silver eyes were completely calm.
"Your mother. The one everyone thinks is away on a long business trip in Paris." She tilted her head slightly. "She's not in Paris, Belle."
Belle's smile flickered.
"She's been in a psychiatric facility for the past eight months. Voluntary admission at first. Then it became something else." Lilith's voice never rose above conversational. "Your father has been paying three different people to keep it out of the papers. The same father who has been telling your friends' parents that your family is fine, that everything is perfectly fine." She paused. "Is everything perfectly fine, Belle?"
The room was completely silent.
Belle had gone very still. The performance was gone. Something real and raw had replaced it , something she had clearly never wanted anyone in this room to see.
"How did you —" Her voice came out smaller than she intended.
"You're not the only one who knows things about people," Lilith said simply, and looked back down at her book.
The bell rang.
Lilith picked up her bag, stood, and walked toward the door. At the threshold she stopped, not for dramatic effect, just because the thought crossed her mind and she felt like saying it.
"I'd say sorry, but you wrote Witch on my desk." She glanced back once. "See you at the trial."
She walked out.
And then stood in the empty corridor, back against the wall, eyes closed.
One more day.
But the door swung open behind her.
Belle.
Whatever composure she had held inside the classroom was completely gone. Her eyes were red, her jaw tight, and she was moving fast.
"You witch," Belle spat. "You absolute witch —"
She launched herself at Lilith.
It happened quickly , Belle's hands reaching, Lilith moving sideways on instinct, and then a door swung open a second time, wider, harder.
"ENOUGH."
Mr Aryan's voice echoed through the corridor.
Everyone froze.
He stood in the doorway, looking between them both, his eyes landing on Lilith the way they always did.
Like she was already guilty.
"Miss Lilith." His voice dropped back to its usual register. "Detention. Now."
Lilith looked at him.
Then she looked at Belle, who had already rearranged her face into something wounded, something victimised, tears forming with impressive speed.
Then she looked back at Mr Aryan.
And something in her just settled. Quietly. Finally.
"You know what?" Lilith said.
She bent down, picked up her bag from where it had slipped off her shoulder, and straightened up slowly.
"Screw this. I'm done."
A beat of silence.
"I quit."
Mr Aryan blinked. Then he smiled , that smile she hated, the one that never reached his eyes.
"Is that so."
"Yes," Lilith said. "That's so."
He clasped his hands behind his back and took a slow step forward.
"You can quit, Miss Lilith. That is absolutely within your right." He tilted his head. "But quitting this school today does not make tomorrow disappear." His voice was pleasant. Conversational. Like he was discussing the weather. "The trial proceeds regardless of your enrolment status. You will still be required to appear. You will still need to answer for every single complaint on that table." He paused. "So , you will have to bring your parents. You will bring any witnesses you have. And a lawyer." Another pause, this one deliberate. "That is, if you can afford one."
The words landed exactly the way he intended them to.
Belle let out a soft, satisfied exhale behind her.
Lilith held Mr Aryan's gaze for a long moment. Her face gave nothing away.
"Understood," she said quietly.
She turned and walked down the corridor without looking back, not at Mr Aryan, not at Belle, not at the faces crowding the doorway to watch.
She walked until she rounded the corner and the sounds faded behind her.
Then she stopped.
She leaned against the wall, tilted her head back, and stared at the ceiling.
A lawyer.
That is, if you can afford one.
She laughed, short, humourless, more air than sound.
Of course.
She pushed off the wall, walked outside, and unlocked her bike.
She had a shift to get to.
She was a dropout now, officially, tomorrow, once the trial concluded and she lost it the way she already knew she would. But for now she had somewhere to be, and that was enough to keep moving.
She got on her bike and rode.