I was standing by the cracked fountain in the academy’s central courtyard, the water in the basin clear at first glance but hitting my nose with a sharp, earthy stench.

Inside the meeting room, a dozen eyes settled on me as I found my seat.

The headmaster cleared his throat, his expression impassive.

“We’re here to discuss recent events,” he began, his voice steady.

But it was the silence that followed that spoke volumes.

It was a silence that demanded complicity, a silence that threatened those who dared to break it.

As the discussion unfolded, I could see the fear etched on my classmates’ faces.

Could we really make a difference?

Or would we be silenced once more?

“Does anyone have anything to say?” the headmaster asked, his gaze sweeping the room.

For a moment, no one moved.