By second period, Claire was done pretending.
She slipped out during break time and walked toward the counselor's office, her shoes echoing in the hallway. Every step felt like it carried years of weight.
When she reached the door, she hesitated. Her reflection stared back at her in the glass — pale, tired, older than she should've looked.
Then she knocked.
The counselor, Ms. Diandra, looked up from behind her desk. "Claire. Come in."
Claire entered slowly, gently closing the door behind her.
The room smelled faintly of lavender. A calming space — muted colors, a small sofa, a table with tissues and calming books about breathing and "finding your center."
"Have a seat," Ms. Diandra offered kindly.
Claire sat, her hands in her lap, fingers twisting.
"I need to talk to you," she said, her voice thin. "It's about… the things people are saying."
Ms. Diandra tilted her head, eyes full of concern. "About Sam?"
Claire nodded slowly.
"They're saying it's my fault. That he killed himself because I rejected him." Her lips trembled. "But I didn't. I mean… I didn't lead him on. I cared about him. A lot. He was my friend. He was—he helped me more than anyone else. But I never… I never used him."
Ms. Diandra reached across the desk, her voice gentle. "Claire. Thank you for coming forward. I've heard the whispers too. And I want you to know… it's not your fault. No matter what people say, no one is responsible for someone else's life like that — especially not when there's no truth in the story."
Claire looked up. "Do you still have Sam's real journal?"
The counselor blinked. "His private writings are in school custody. The ones we used during the memorial were selected entries he shared in counseling."
"I think someone changed his words," Claire said quietly. "Someone's twisting them to blame me."
Ms. Diandra leaned back, now watching her more carefully. "Claire… that's a serious accusation."
"I know," Claire said. "But Sam left a note. He said if anything happened to him, it wouldn't be an accident. And that the truth was on his phone."
There was a pause. A long, still silence between them.
"Do you have this note?"
Claire nodded. "I copied it. From the original. Miko gave it to me."
Ms. Diandra looked genuinely shaken now. "Let me talk to the principal. I'll request a proper review. And Claire… thank you. I know this must be terrifying."
Claire nodded slowly, eyes glossy but dry.
"I just want people to remember him right. And if someone's lying… I want to know who."
The counselor gave her a gentle nod. "I'll do what I can. For Sam. And for you."
When Claire left the room, the hallway was empty.
For the first time that week, she didn't feel like running.
Because she wasn't just a girl hiding from rumors anymore.
She was a girl chasing the truth.
That afternoon, Claire found Miko leaning against the courtyard wall behind the gym — the quietest corner of the school, away from judging eyes and tangled whispers. The clouds had thickened again, and the wind carried the scent of rain and something colder — something unsettled.
Miko looked up as she approached. "How are you holding up?"
Claire shrugged, arms crossed against herself. "Still breathing."
Miko gave a small nod. "Ms. Diandra called me in earlier. She told me you mentioned the note. And Sam's phone."
Claire stepped closer. "We'll find it. I know we will. But first… I need your help with something else."
Miko raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Claire glanced around — no one nearby — then leaned in slightly.
"Someone's spreading the rumor about me and Sam. And I think it's intentional. Not just gossip. It's too… precise."
"You have a name?"
She hesitated. Then said quietly, "I think it's Diana."
Miko blinked. "Diana?"
Claire nodded. "She's always hated me. She used to talk about me behind my back even before Sam died. And she has a reason to want me out of the picture."
Miko frowned. "What reason?"
Claire met his eyes, steady and unflinching. "Because she's in love with you."
The words landed heavy between them.
Miko looked away, jaw tight. "She and I… we were never anything. She wanted there to be something, but I never gave her hope."
"But she thought you did," Claire said softly. "And she's hated me for a long time. Always giving me looks. Making jabs. She used to say I acted 'too special' around people."
Miko sighed. "That sounds like her."
"She saw me talking with you a lot before Sam died," Claire continued. "And then when Sam… when it happened, she had an opening. She turned the story into something ugly. Like it was all about me."
Miko was silent for a moment, then straightened up. "I'll confirm it. If she's the one who spread the rumor, I'll find proof."
Claire stared at him. "How?"
"She hangs around the AV club office. There are records — internal school chat logs, camera logs, even some group messages they monitor unofficially for student safety. I still have a friend on that team."
"Will they help us?"
Miko's expression darkened. "They will if I ask."
It didn't take long.
By the end of the day, Miko sent Claire a message:
[Got it. Meet me by the art room. Now.]
Claire rushed over, heart racing.
Miko was already there, holding a tablet. On the screen, an anonymous account had sent several messages to a school gossip group. The message that started it all:
"People should really know the truth. Sam loved her. She rejected him and broke him. He didn't just die out of nowhere."
The IP address?
Traced back to the art room computer.
Used under Diana's school login.
Claire's stomach twisted.
"I knew it," she whispered.
"She didn't think anyone would care enough to track it," Miko muttered. "She thought it would just spread quietly and no one would connect it to her."
Claire stared at the screen. Her fingers trembled — not from fear. From anger.
"She used Sam's death to hurt me. And she thought no one would stop her."
Miko looked at her. "We stop her now."
Claire met his gaze, something firm settling in her chest.
"Yes," she said. "No more silence."
The next morning, the atmosphere at school was different.
Still quiet. Still tense.
But this time, Claire felt the power shift beneath the silence.
She walked beside Miko down the main hallway, both of them heading toward the principal's office. Miko held the printed log files and screenshots — clear, undeniable evidence that Diana had been behind the rumor. It wasn't just mean-spirited gossip. It was targeted character assassination, built on a tragedy.
When they reached the office, Ms. Diandra was already waiting for them outside.
"You're both right on time," she said, giving Claire a gentle nod. "I spoke with the principal after reviewing your information. He's waiting inside."
Claire's heart pounded, but she gave a small nod and followed them in.
Principal Adi was a tall man with a calm but stern presence. He greeted them briefly, then gestured for them to sit.
"Ms. Claire," he began, "first of all, I want to sincerely apologize that this situation was allowed to grow unchecked. Grief often reveals the best and worst in people… and in this case, someone chose cruelty."
He turned to Miko. "I reviewed the files you submitted. The language, the timestamps, and the login activity all clearly point to one person."
He looked at Claire again.
Claire swallowed hard. "So… what happens now?"
Principal Adi's expression didn't waver. "She was called into a meeting this morning. Denied everything at first. Then we showed her the evidence."
Claire leaned forward. "And?"
"She admitted it," Ms. Diandra said softly. "Said she was angry. Said she never meant for it to go that far. But she knew exactly what she was doing."
"She didn't just hurt me," Claire said quietly. "She used Sam's death as a weapon."
"Yes," the principal agreed. "Which is why the school will not be taking this lightly."
He slid a document across the desk — a formal notice.
"Diana has been suspended indefinitely pending further review by the school board. Her record will be marked. And she will be removed from all student council and extracurricular responsibilities, effective immediately."
Claire stared at the paper. It felt… surreal.
Not satisfying. Not triumphant.
But just.
Miko placed a hand on her shoulder. She didn't flinch this time.
"We'll be issuing a school-wide statement tomorrow," the principal continued. "Clarifying that false rumors were spread, and that Sam's memory deserves dignity — not manipulation."
Claire nodded slowly. "Thank you."
Ms. Diandra added gently, "And Claire… if you ever feel unsafe or isolated again, please come to us. You are not alone in this."
For the first time in days, Claire felt something shift in her chest.
Not relief.
But the first breath of it.
Later that afternoon, she sat in the school garden, notebook in her lap.
She opened to the page with Sam's name. Underneath the last line — "The lie is spreading" — she drew a slow, dark line through the sentence.
Then, below it, she wrote:
"The truth spoke louder."
And for the first time in a long time, the silence around her felt…
Peaceful.