Chapter 53: The Second Signature

Roxanne was summoned back to the committee office the next morning, and this time Isla insisted on coming with her, muttering the entire walk over about how ridiculous it was that Roxanne had to keep proving herself for something she hadn’t done.

The committee chair looked considerably less composed than he had during the hearing. "The audit results are back," he said, sliding a printed report across the table. "The screenshot Joanna submitted wasn’t fabricated entirely from nothing. The original conversation exists. But a section was removed, and the timestamp was altered before it was shared with the committee."

Roxanne scanned the page, her stomach tightening as she reached the second finding.

"More concerning," the chair continued, "is that the committee account itself was accessed from two separate devices. One belonged to Joanna. The other traces back to an academy administrative terminal."

The room went uncomfortably quiet.

Joanna was summoned shortly after, and she walked in with none of the composure she’d carried into the hearing days before. She admitted immediately that she’d accessed the account, though she insisted she hadn’t altered anything herself.

"Someone gave me the information," she said. "They told me it would prove Roxanne had been manipulating the committee."

"Who?" Roxanne asked.

Joanna’s jaw tightened. "I’m not saying."

It wasn’t defiance, exactly. Roxanne watched her closely enough to recognize fear underneath it, the particular kind that came from being caught somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be and realizing how much trouble that carried.

The committee suspended Joanna from student leadership pending further investigation. Roxanne could have pushed for something harsher, could have demanded expulsion or a permanent mark on her record.

"I don’t need her removed," Roxanne said instead. "I needed the truth. I have it now."

The chair looked at her for a long moment before nodding, and Roxanne’s position on the Founders’ Festival committee was formally restored. One of the teachers on the panel offered a quiet apology for removing her based on incomplete evidence in the first place.

Roxanne accepted it, then added, "I don’t want special treatment now either. If my decisions are going to be reviewed, then everyone’s should be held to the same standard, not just mine."

That earned a few approving nods from committee members who hadn’t said much throughout the entire proceeding.

When she returned to the group waiting outside, Liam demanded the full story before she’d even sat down.

"Joanna’s suspended from student leadership," Roxanne said.

Liam grinned. "Finally."

Roshan, characteristically, was more interested in the second device. "An administrative terminal. That’s not something a student could access on their own."

"Don’t start digging without permission," Lucien said, cutting him off before he could get further.

Roshan looked mildly disappointed but let it go.

Kai caught Roxanne’s eye. "Are you okay?"

"I’m tired of people deciding what I am," she said.

"Then keep showing them," Kai said, simple and steady, nothing more added to it.

Liam clapped his hands together. "Which means we’re celebrating. You survived a hearing. That’s team law."

"I don’t owe you a celebration," Roxanne said.

"You do. I just made up the rule."

They ended up crowded around a table in the cafeteria regardless, Liam stealing food off everyone’s trays until Lucien finally told him to stop, Roshan quietly sliding Roxanne’s favorite drink across the table without comment, Kai settling beside her without saying much at all, just present in the easy, comfortable way that had become familiar over the past weeks.

It felt, for the first time in days, like something normal.

Dorian found her afterward as she was leaving the cafeteria, holding a folded document instead of another attempt at conversation about their past.

"What’s this?" she asked.

"An old academy rule about student committee appointments," he said. "The one Joanna’s complaint tried to exploit. You should read it before the next meeting."

Roxanne took it, studying him for a moment. "Why are you helping me?"

He hesitated, clearly searching for an answer that sounded better than the one he had. "Because I should have helped you before."

She didn’t tell him it was fine, didn’t offer forgiveness she didn’t feel yet. She just took the document. "Thank you."

That was enough for both of them.

Just as things seemed to be settling, the academy released a new announcement across every student’s board, this one considerably lighter than the recent weeks had been. Moonstone Academy’s Inter-Pack Week would begin in two weeks’ time, with students divided into mixed teams for a series of events, sports tournaments, academic games, pack challenges, evening performances, and social gatherings designed to bring different territories’ students together.

Because Roxanne’s committee position had just been restored, she found herself immediately responsible for helping organize part of it.

"We’re volunteering," Liam announced before anyone asked him.

"You are not," Roxanne said.

"We are," Liam said, already grinning. "You need us. Admit it."

She groaned, though the sound carried less irritation than she intended.

Later that evening, back in the committee room, Roxanne sat sorting through stacks of event schedules, cross-referencing team assignments and volunteer sign-up sheets under the dim overhead lights. Near the bottom of the pile, she found a single sheet listing student volunteers for the opening ceremony coordination.

Her name sat near the top. Beneath it, all four Moonstone names followed.

And scrawled in the margin beside all five names, in handwriting she didn’t recognize, someone had written a single instruction.

KEEP THEM TOGETHER.

Roxanne stared at the note for a long moment, an uneasy feeling settling low in her stomach. She thought about the second device that had accessed the committee account, about Joanna’s fear when asked who had given her the information, about all the small moments over the past weeks that suggested someone behind the scenes had been paying far closer attention to her and the brothers than made sense for ordinary academy politics.

She picked up her pen, crossed out the note with a single decisive line, and wrote underneath it in her own hand.

WE DECIDE THAT.

She set the paper back down on the desk, gathered the rest of her folders, and turned off the light behind her as she left.