《Phoenix Academy》
No looking back
It was three o''clock. The car wasn''t there yet, but then again, Eve knew better than to let her parents see any sign of doubt.
Her mother glanced at the clock, hanging slightly askew on the dusty wall, and back at her with an unreadable expression. Her tall frame was sturdy, built from years of physical labour to earn just enough for the family to keep afloat and the second-hand textbooks that had given her the glimmer of a chance.
The woman¡¯s hands trembled slightly as she adjusted the sash on her fraying house robe. Her hair was streaked grey and pulled back into an uneven bun that hadn''t seen brushing in days. Her husband sat silently by the grimy window.
"Still going to keep the appointment I made for you?" Mother asked, her voice hesitant, tinged with something Eve couldn''t place. "Got a finder''s fee riding on that."
Eve shifted under her gaze, but she didn¡¯t flinch. She took a deep breath and regretted it. The air was tainted with the all too familiar stink of stale cigarette smoke and musty dampness she couldn''t get rid of regardless of how hard she cleaned or what products she used.
"It¡¯s at ten. Doesn¡¯t matter what you wear," she continued, her eyes darting away to the clock as if trying not to meet Eve''s gaze for too long. "It''s Flutters. You¡¯ll be taking it all off soon enough."
No way¡ªnot happening, not now, not ever. Her stomach churned at the thought. She wasn''t going to end up working at a pleasure house at eighteen. Eve shook her head firmly, her decision unwavering despite the chaos in her chest. As much as she tried to ignore it, it still hurt. Mothers were meant to be better than this.
Phoenix Academy offered her an escape, but it was already three, and they weren''t here. Had she dreamed it all? Was it a mistake, a prank? No, she couldn''t give up now, not when she was so close.
Father snorted. His weathered hands were crossed over a faded shirt that had seen better days. With his short thumb, he pushed the threadbare curtain open for a moment. "Nobody out there. Where''s that fancy car waiting for you?" He released the curtain, letting it flutter. "We''ve told you before, girl. Fantasies don''t pay the bills." His voice was rough but flat, as though he¡¯d repeated this phrase a hundred times before and could say it in his sleep.
Eve¡¯s jaw tightened as she met her father''s hard stare. "Right, because paying bills is all you¡¯re about," she snapped. She knew better than to voice the truth, that her father did as little work as he could get away with, preferring a week spent dodging debts to a single hour of honest labour. But it stung too much to say that out loud.
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"Ungrateful brat," her mother muttered under her breath, though not quietly enough for Eve not to hear. "Oh yes, and we¡¯ve done our duty by you," she said with a bitter twist to the words, as though it left a foul taste on her tongue. "High time for you to contribute if you want to stay here..."
Eve felt a buzz and reached into the pocket of her patched jeans, withdrawing an outdated phone, bulky and with repaired components sticking out. The screen was scratched from years of use.
She entered a well-practised passcode and scanned the message quickly, her sharp eyes moving fast before her expression shifted to one of quiet relief.
"Miss Carter, please receive our most profound apologies. We have been delayed by fifteen minutes. Your driver will arrive momentarily."
She pocketed it again. No need for words. She nodded, once.
"I¡¯ve been putting money in that jar since I could remember," she said evenly.
It had started as a game, begging for coins and notes, anything to add. Later, it became courier jobs, racing against time through dingy streets after school hours while other kids played; carefully avoiding the darker trades of drugs or biologics with luck and sharp thinking.
"But it doesn¡¯t matter," she said, slinging her worn backpack over one shoulder. "I¡¯m leaving, and I won''t be coming back."
"She''s still insisting on that fairytale?" Father raised an eyebrow, his face hardening into a closed expression. "The Phoenix Academy, that''s not for the likes of us, girl. We''re filth, and if we ever try to rise above that... They''ll tread us back down right quick."
Eve didn¡¯t need a lecture. She knew the truth of his words, but she also believed her own version: things weren''t all set in stone.
An almost musical car horn sounded outside.
"Maybe you are," Eve said. "But I''m not going to be. That''s my ride."
She hesitated; what was the point? "You know, I have a name, but it''s not ''girl''. Or ''brat''. You might remember it, since you gave it to me." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "Or so you say." Sometimes, it was hard to believe they were family, though about that, she truly could afford no fantasies. "Not like you''ve said it in years."
"If you walk out of this house you better go to Flutters," Mother said sharply, her voice cracking just a little as she clung to the edge of her chair. "If you leave now... if you take one step outside... Don¡¯t expect us to let you back in."
"Good to know," Eve said, sparing them both a glance that held no warmth. "Goodbye," she said simply. "Father." She hesitated for a moment before adding, with no small amount of irony, "Mother." There was nothing left here for her, no point in looking back.
Outside, two women waited. The car looked out of place: a rose in the wilderness, a gleaming spot of luxurious power in the urban dust.
Best to remember roses have thorns.
Stepping into the unknown
The younger woman stepped forward under the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp, holding up a poster with Eve¡¯s face and name printed in bold letters. Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail that gleamed under the artificial light. She wore a tailored uniform¡ªpressed trousers and an immaculate blazer¡ªwith the red and crimson holographic insignia of Phoenix Academy, giving her a polished yet approachable air. She extended her hand toward Eve, offering to help with the luggage.
¡°Miss Carter?¡± she said with a warm smile that didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes, nerves faint beneath the surface. ¡°Welcome. I¡¯ll be your driver today.¡±
The older woman lingered in the shadows¡ªtaller, more imposing, with sharp features that suggested years of experience. Her hair was a silver-blonde bob, styled to perfection despite her no-nonsense demeanour. She wore an elegant black pantsuit tailored for authority, every crease deliberate.
Eve crossed her arms, sizing them up. She wasn¡¯t used to being deferred to, let alone by someone who looked like she¡¯d stepped out of a luxury magazine.
¡°Miss Carter, am I? And what do I call you?¡± Eve asked, tilting her head, a faint glint of amusement in her voice.
The younger woman gestured toward her name tag. ¡°Just Mia... Miss.¡± Her smile tightened.
¡°It seems¡ª¡±
The older woman stepped forward, her tone calm and cutting. ¡°It¡¯s Academy protocol,¡± Ms Harper explained. ¡°Students are ¡®Miss¡¯, staff are ¡®Ms¡¯. Support workers like Mia go by their first names.¡±
Eve bit down on a frown.
¡°You don¡¯t like it,¡± Ms Harper said.
¡°I¡¯ll live. No name tag for you?¡±
¡°Ms Harper,¡± she replied, offering her hand.
Eve hesitated before shaking it. Her grip was firm¡ªmore suspicion than greeting. In her experience, rigid hierarchies always meant someone got screwed. It didn¡¯t matter that, this time, she wasn¡¯t at the very bottom.
¡°So you¡¯re staff.¡±
¡°Student advisor,¡± Ms Harper said. ¡°Short of an unbearable personality clash, I¡¯ll advise you until graduation.¡±
¡°Advisor? What kind?¡±
Ms Harper didn¡¯t blink. ¡°Any kind. I¡¯m qualified to advise you on academics, personal matters, relationship dynamics...¡±
¡°I¡¯d have thought they¡¯d split those.¡±
¡°They would, elsewhere. At Phoenix, we do things differently.¡±
¡°Better?¡±
¡°I¡¯d like to think so. You¡¯re a complete whole. This way, I can address whatever arises.¡±
¡°And am I ¡®Miss Carter¡¯ to you?¡± Eve asked, her voice low, steady, eyes narrowing¡ªnot just about etiquette.
¡°Astute,¡± Ms Harper said, the single word landing with quiet approval. She stepped forward¡ªjust close enough to mark authority, not enough to intrude. ¡°Not deaf to nuance. You are, if you wish. And I hope¡±¡ªshe paused, just the hint of a smile¡ª¡°I hope you won¡¯t mind if I call you Eve, in time.¡±
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Eve¡¯s eyes narrowed fractionally. Not refusal, but not assent either.
¡°Hope springs eternal,¡± she said, dry. ¡°Shall we go?¡±
¡°First, I regret our delay. Mia didn¡¯t plan the route with enough leeway. She owes you a formal apology.¡±
¡°A formal...?¡± Eve glanced at Mia, suddenly tense. ¡°That¡¯s... it¡¯s fine.¡±
Eve thought she saw Ms Harper¡¯s sharp features soften slightly when she looked at Mia... or maybe that was in Eve¡¯s head.
¡°Is it?¡± Ms Harper asked. ¡°You seemed... distressed when you came out.¡±
¡°Well. I can¡¯t deny it was... upsetting to think¡ª¡±
¡°To think we weren¡¯t picking you up?¡±
¡°Am I ridiculously insecure?¡±
¡°Not more than...¡± Ms Harper¡¯s voice dropped slightly, as though weighing her words. ¡°Not more than a lot of our scholarship students. And quite a few paying ones.¡±
She turned. ¡°You are part of Phoenix now, Miss Carter. Mia?¡±
¡°Here?¡± Mia asked.
¡°No, in Timbuktu,¡± Ms Harper said, dry.
¡°But... we¡¯re not at Phoenix¡ª¡±
¡°Oh, silly me, I hadn¡¯t noticed. Is there any other obvious thing you¡¯d like to remind me of?¡±
Mia gulped. The street was gritty, mostly empty. A couple of teenagers loitered in the far corner. The air smelled of exhaust fumes and river damp. The buildings around them were a mix of crumbling warehouses and low-rise flats painted in weary greys, neon signs flickering from late-night shops.
Mia knelt at Eve¡¯s feet under Ms Harper¡¯s watchful gaze. Her polished shoes gleamed against the grime.
¡°Miss Carter,¡± Mia said, voice trembling. Her hands were folded neatly in front of her on the pavement.
Eve noticed a shiver go down her arms.
¡°I most humbly apologise for our unacceptable delay,¡± Mia said, bowing her head. ¡°I lacked experience driving through this kind of neighbourhood and¡ª¡±
¡°An apology, not an excuse, if you please,¡± Ms Harper said.
Mia¡¯s eyes flicked to Eve¡¯s, then quickly away. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Miss Carter,¡± she whispered. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t have happened. I regret causing you upset.¡±
Eve stared. Too shocked to speak.
¡°Well?¡± Ms Harper asked. ¡°Do you accept her apology? She will be disciplined. Chaos is not a first impression Phoenix can afford.¡±
¡°What... Why wouldn¡¯t I? Of course.¡±
Mia let out a quiet breath. Her shoulders sagged, the tension in her frame melting, and Eve couldn¡¯t help but notice how young she looked, standing up, eyes still lowered. She whispered, ¡°Thank you.¡±
Ms Harper opened the car door. ¡°Shall we?¡±
The car was sleek and modern, a gleaming crimson vehicle with a subtle phoenix-wing spoiler¡ªclearly a showpiece. The interior smelled of leather and polished wood.
Eve crossed her legs, her patched jeans and scuffed jacket jarring against the pristine upholstery. She felt like she was contaminating it. She tried to suppress the thought, filling the space, holding herself like she belonged.
¡°Wasn¡¯t that a bit much?¡± she asked. ¡°Fifteen minutes late isn¡¯t the end of the world. We''re lucky if the bus is only half an hour off.¡±
¡°Your application says you¡¯re a courier,¡± Ms Harper said, faintly amused. ¡°You know the value of time. What¡¯s fifteen minutes late to you?¡±
¡°Alright,¡± Eve said with a shrug. ¡°Point made.¡± Twenty percent discount, at least. ¡°Still...¡±
¡°You think I¡¯m being unfair to Mia. Miss Carter, your sense of justice is admirable. But I¡¯d advise against making snap judgements. Mia, am I unfair?¡±
¡°No, Ms Harper.¡±
¡°Of course, what¡¯s she going to say when you¡ª¡±
¡°No, she really isn¡¯t, Miss,¡± Mia said softly, as if afraid to speak. ¡°Ms Harper¡¯s strict, but always fair. I really... I really screwed up. I¡¯ve never driven anywhere like this. I didn¡¯t realise what a mess the place was.¡±
¡°Now that¡¯s rude.¡± Ms Harper sniffed.
¡°I¡¯m sorry, Ms Harper. Miss.¡±
¡°No. It¡¯s true,¡± Eve muttered, as the car pulled smoothly into motion. She resisted the urge to look back. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to leave. Do we go straight to the island?¡±
¡°One doesn¡¯t simply go to Phoenix Island,¡± Ms Harper said with a faint smile and a quoting tone. ¡°You¡¯ve read your prospectus? Are you compliant with luggage rules? No electronics, no undeclared substances?¡±
¡°I think so. I don¡¯t have a scale at home, but my backpack can¡¯t be more than ten kilos.¡±
Ms Harper nodded. ¡°Quite so. Now, about that... do you have appropriate clothing? For the weather, the events, the expectations?¡±
Eve shrugged, wary. ¡°Sort of.¡±
¡°¡®Sort of,¡¯¡± Ms Harper repeated, smoothing the accent from Eve¡¯s voice into neutrality. ¡°Presentation matters. You¡¯ll be judged by how you look. You know the scholarship includes a clothing allowance?¡±
¡°I hadn¡¯t thought about it.¡± She crossed her arms. ¡°This is who I am. Regretting your purchase?¡±
Ms Harper laughed. ¡°Not at all. We trust our selection procedures. You deserve to be here. I¡¯m only trying to smooth your path. That¡¯s what an advisor does.¡±
¡°So what if I say I don¡¯t have... what did you call it... appropriate clothing?¡±
¡°Then we go and buy it. Mia?¡±
¡°Yes, Ms Harper. Approved shopping centre fifteen kilometres away. Shall I head there?¡±
¡°Please do.¡±
First impressions
The shopping trip was a blur, a maze of boutiques with sleek mannequins and polished floors. Ms Harper, all calm authority, guided Eve through the process like a trainer with a prize horse: evaluating, selecting, rejecting. Sometimes the shop assistants looked perturbed¡ªwhether by Eve¡¯s tattered clothes, her skin, or Ms Harper¡¯s directness was hard to say. Either way, they obeyed, even as Eve felt the weight of the credit card she hadn¡¯t earned.
The school covered her expenses, but that didn¡¯t mean she deserved them. Each swipe felt like a mistake waiting to be caught. Any moment now, someone would take her aside and tell her there¡¯d been an error. That she didn¡¯t belong here. That someone like her shouldn¡¯t be draped in silk and cashmere.
The stares weren¡¯t open. Not quite. But she caught the glances. She always did.
Mia, quiet and efficient despite her nerves, was there whenever Eve needed to change¡ªhelping her in and out of one expensive outfit after another. A flurry of fabric. The scrape of a zipper. The press of unfamiliar hands: clinical, but inescapable.
"I can dress myself," Eve said, stiffening as Mia reached for another set of buttons. "I¡¯m not a child."
Mia¡¯s hands froze mid-motion. "But Ms Harper¡ª"
"I said I can do it." The sharpness in her own voice startled her. Mia only flinched, glancing at the curtain as if checking for witnesses.
"Miss Carter... please..." she whispered.
"Is there a problem?" Ms Harper¡¯s voice was level, just beyond the changing room door. "We¡¯re under time pressure."
Mia¡¯s fingers fumbled with Eve¡¯s blouse.
Eve sighed. "Fine. Do what you have to."
"Thank you, Miss. I¡¯m sorry for making you uncomfortable."
Eve¡¯s hand shot out, gripping Mia¡¯s shoulder before she even thought about it.
"Don¡¯t. Apology accepted," she said, quieter now. "Don¡¯t kneel."
Mia trembled, then stilled, her breath catching before she gave a small, understanding nod.
"Oh, no, Miss. I wouldn¡¯t do that. That¡¯s only for formal apologies."
Great. Only.
What sort of place was Phoenix Academy to have workers like this?
"Miss Carter?" Ms Harper called.
"Coming."
Eve tried to convince herself it wasn¡¯t so bad. But the careful, almost surgical way Mia dressed and undressed her left a knot in her stomach that wouldn¡¯t go away.
By the time they boarded the suborbital rocket to Tahiti, Eve was already wishing the whole ordeal would be over. But the spacecraft itself was a distraction: sleek, silent, impossibly smooth. There was a detached thrill in being launched skyward, watching the blue deepen into black as the world shrank beneath them. The engines hummed, the vibrations settling into her bones.
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Mia sat beside her, hands folded neatly in her lap, eyes flicking between the control panels and the Academy insignia glowing on the cabin walls. Eve kept her gaze forward, trying to ignore the weight pressing in.
The interior gleamed¡ªpolished surfaces, red accents, the Phoenix crest hovering in quiet perfection. It wasn¡¯t just a ship, but what it signified. Leaving one world behind and stepping into another. Eve knew she¡¯d have to find her footing. She always did.
Ms Harper, still working, barely glanced up from her tablet. "Once we arrive at Phoenix Island, you¡¯ll be given a full introduction to the campus. I regret it will be brief. I have an academic board meeting immediately upon arrival."
If she regretted it, it didn¡¯t slow her.
Eve nodded, pondering. An island built for women, power tended like a garden flower. Every detail engineered.
Mia sat straight-backed, immaculate in her uniform. Her posture was perfect. Eve¡¯s worn leather jacket and jeans felt rough by contrast. She shifted slightly, self-conscious¡ªaware not just of the difference in wealth, but in who was allowed to belong. A girl from nowhere, dressed like she¡¯d stolen her seat.
"Any reason you haven¡¯t changed out of... that?" Ms Harper asked. "First impressions are valuable."
"Precisely," Eve said.
Ms Harper¡¯s lips twitched. She nodded. Got back to her tablet.
"You¡¯ll be sharing a room," she went on, not looking up. "We¡¯ve matched you based on your profiles. Miss Lila Monroe will be your roommate. Her family has... considerable influence."
The word considerable hovered just a second too long.
"Lila," Eve repeated, testing the name.
"You¡¯ll also be in close quarters with Miss Sophie Cazeneuve and Miss Maya Chen. I¡¯ll introduce you later, though you¡¯ll likely meet them at orientation."
The engines changed pitch. They were descending.
Eve¡¯s stomach fluttered¡ªnot from the motion, but from everything waiting below.
The Academy didn¡¯t do anything by accident.
Even roommate pairings were calculated.
And she had no idea what role she was meant to play.
The hum of the rocket faded.
Outside: lush green and impossible blue under a bright sky. The contrast hit hard.
The submarine ride was silent, but not peaceful. Eve sat stiffly, watching the water darken as they descended. The Academy wanted its students displaced before they even arrived. Wanted them disoriented. Softened up.
Phoenix Island rose ahead: gleaming buildings, manicured paths inviting exploration, a dream in the middle of the ocean conjured just for them. Princesses in a fantasy world.
Too good to be true?
As they neared the main building, Eve caught sight of two girls ahead. The shorter one¡ªdark-haired, delicate¡ªlooked poised. A little too polished. The other was harder to ignore. Tall, blonde, magnetic. Confident in a way that didn¡¯t need to prove itself.
She didn¡¯t even glance at Eve.
Didn¡¯t have to.
That kind of power didn¡¯t bother with girls like her. Not until she had something to offer. Right now, she didn¡¯t.
Ms Harper passed them, ticking names like a checklist. "Monroe. Cazeneuve. Chen. Carter."
Monroe¡ªher roommate?
The girl barely met Eve¡¯s eyes, fingers fidgeting at her jacket hem. Eve had seen that before. The second-guessers. The over-thinkers.
Inside the hall, Ms Harper turned to her. "You¡¯ll be assigned to your room shortly. Let me introduce you to your future roommate."
The blonde¡ªCazeneuve¡ªtilted her head. Her gaze flicked to Eve. She smiled. It wasn¡¯t warm.
Monroe looked at Eve, then away again.
Cazeneuve leaned in, murmured something to Monroe. Monroe nodded.
"Look at you two. Aren¡¯t you lucky?" Cazeneuve said. "How absolutely charming. Try not to let the leather girl rub off on you, Monroe."
"Of course," Monroe said quietly.
Eve said nothing. She didn¡¯t have to.
She¡¯d seen this kind of power play before.
Cazeneuve didn¡¯t need to be cruel. She just needed to be the centre. And Monroe was already in orbit.
Ms Harper¡¯s voice cut clean through. "Let¡¯s move on."
The awkwardness lingered.
She hadn¡¯t even unpacked, and already, the hierarchy was forming around her.
Trust the system
The main hall was vast, designed for impact. Smooth marble floors stretched beneath the gathered students, the Academy¡¯s crest inlaid at the centre, a silent declaration of purpose. High, arched windows let in the gold-tinged light of the setting sun, casting long shadows over the waiting figures. A hush had settled, the kind that falls when people sense something larger than themselves.
Then Dr. Helena Vermeer stepped forward.
She was tall, sharply elegant, and moved with the same poise her face wore: studied, unbreakable. Her silver-streaked hair was drawn into a flawless bun, and her dark eyes scanned the gathered students with a quiet certainty.
When she spoke, her voice was calm, level¡ªevery word deliberate, measured, settling over them like an inevitability.
¡°Welcome to Phoenix Academy,¡± she said. ¡°I am Dr. Helena Vermeer, Chief Administrator.¡±
A pause, to let the name settle.
The Chief Administrator. She was the highest-ranking figure in the Academy¡ªthe woman who ran this place, who held their futures in her hands.
¡°Many of you believe you know what this place is,¡± she continued. ¡°Some of you may even believe you understand why you are here.¡±
The silence deepened. No one dared to move.
¡°You do not.
¡°You have passed the threshold. For many of you, the hardest part is already over. You made it here.¡± A pause. ¡°Now, all that remains is to become the person you were meant to be.¡±
Eve shifted on her feet, her bag still slung over her shoulder. This felt¡ surreal. After everything¡ªthe exams, the waiting, the ridiculous, nerve-wracking submarine trip¡ªshe was finally here. It didn¡¯t feel like triumph. Just pressure, condensed into the space between her ribs.
She¡¯d expected relief. Instead: a tight coil in her gut, restless and sharp. She didn¡¯t belong here. Not really.
She set her jaw. She had clawed her way up to this place. She wasn¡¯t about to let anyone take it from her.
The Chief Administrator¡¯s eyes flicked over the crowd. ¡°Special congratulations to our scholarship students. You passed the hardest entrance exams in the world. You earned your place here, not through birth, but through sheer excellence. From now on, your success is assured. Do the work, and you will thrive, not just survive.¡±
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Maya glanced at the other scholarship students¡ªsome straightened, pride and nerves flickering across their faces.
She liked the phrasing. Thrive, not just survive.
It sounded good. If it was true.
The words sent a shiver down her spine. Nothing in life was assured.
She folded her arms across her chest, face unreadable.
¡°But,¡± Vermeer continued, her gaze shifting, ¡°to those of you who are paying students¡ªyou are not here just because of privilege, just because of money. You, too, have been tested. You are here to learn, to grow, to become more than what you were before. You did not simply buy your way in. You were chosen.¡±
Sophie¡¯s lips twitched.
That was a nice way of putting it.
Sure, they hadn¡¯t just paid their way in¡ªbut let¡¯s be honest, money helped. She could feel the tension from some of the wealthier girls around her, a few bristling at the implication that they weren¡¯t special enough to coast.
Good.
Let them squirm. She knew exactly what this school was. And she had no intention of being just another girl with a trust fund. Phoenix taught power, and she was here to learn.
¡°Phoenix is not an institution,¡± the Chief Administrator continued. ¡°It is a way of life. These five years will define you: the way you lead, the way you think, the way you survive.¡±
Her expression sharpened slightly. ¡°And the first step in that journey begins now.¡±
The air tightened with expectation.
¡°You are about to meet the most important person in your life: your roommate.¡±
A shuffle of feet. Someone coughed.
Lila swallowed hard.
Most important person in her life?
She knew what they were doing. Setting the tone. But it was getting to her anyway.
She needed to believe it. Because if she didn¡¯t¡ªif the system was wrong¡ªwhat did that mean for her?
Her father¡¯s voice surfaced. You are only as strong as the company you keep.
What if her roommate hated her?
What if she was¡ cruel?
The thought curled in her chest and wouldn¡¯t let go.
Then she straightened her spine.
New start, new start, new start.
It would work out. It had to.
The Chief Administrator¡¯s gaze hardened. ¡°This is not a small thing. You have been carefully profiled, matched with the person who will test you, support you, sharpen you into something stronger than you were alone. Your success here, more than anything else, will depend on your ability to trust.¡±
A brief pause. Then, slower, deliberate:
¡°Trust your roommate. Trust your advisor. And most importantly¡¡±
She let the words sink in.
¡°Trust the system.¡±
Silence. Heavy as stone.
A breath, a stir¡ªsomeone shifted their weight.
Eve scoffed.
Trust the system? Right. That was how you got eaten alive.
The system had never done shit for her before.
She wasn¡¯t here to trust. She was here to learn when to nod, and when to tear the rules apart.
¡°You will face challenges,¡± Vermeer said, softer now, but still unflinching. ¡°There will be moments of doubt, of failure, of hardship. You will struggle.¡±
Another pause.
¡°And that is good.¡±
Some of the students looked startled. Others frowned.
¡°You belong here,¡± she said at last. The words had the weight of a command. ¡°And Phoenix will support you. In your hardest moments, in your greatest triumphs. You will make it. Together, we can change the world.¡±
A hush. No breath, no movement.
She gave a final nod. ¡°Welcome home.¡±
And with that, Phoenix Academy¡¯s newest class stepped forward to meet their fate.