The old auditorium of Bellmont School felt like a silent courtroom.
Rossie stood face-to-face with Ms. Drake, only a few feet apart. The usual warmth of the drama teacher was gone. What remained in her eyes was something far heavier—secrets buried too long.
"We just want the truth," Rossie said. Her voice trembled slightly, but her gaze stayed firm.
Ms. Drake slowly stepped forward, circling the dusty costume table. "Truth doesn't always bring peace, Rossie."
Liam stood beside Rossie, fists clenched. "But the truth deserves to be known. Not buried under the school's reputation."
Ms. Drake stared at them, then let out a soft, dry laugh. There was no kindness in it.
"You think Alya was erased over something minor?"
Rossie tightened her grip on the script in her hand. "I know she was my mother. I just want to know… why was she erased from the school's history? Why hasn't a single teacher mentioned her name? Why… did everything vanish?"
Silence.
Finally, Ms. Drake exhaled slowly.
"Because she knew too much."
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Flashback – Bellmont School, 1999
Alya Singgih was a star. Not only was she the lead actress in The Silent Bell, but she had also written part of the script herself. But she started asking questions—dangerous questions: about scholarship funds that never reached students, about a scandal in the casting process, about connections between the principal and a shadowy private theatre foundation.
Then, the night before the big performance—she disappeared.
The next morning, Victoria Lancaster stood on stage as the new lead.
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Back to Present Day
"Alya saw more than she was supposed to," Ms. Drake said softly, almost to herself. "And someone made sure she could never speak again."
"Is she… still alive?" Rossie whispered.
Ms. Drake didn't answer. But tears shimmered in her eyes.
"I tried to protect her. But I'm just a teacher. And in this school… the power doesn't lie with us."
Liam stepped forward. "Who made you sign the order to erase Alya?"
Ms. Drake locked eyes with them. "Someone from the school board. And that name… might still be on the list of trustees today."
Rossie froze.
Before they could press further, the auditorium door creaked open. Someone stepped inside.
Rossie and Liam turned instinctively.
A well-dressed older man stood at the doorway. Calm. Composed.
"That's enough, Evelyn," he said coolly. "Don't drag these children into a past that cannot be undone."
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Meanwhile, back in the dormitory…
Nichole opened an old wooden box buried deep in her drawer. Hidden beneath old letters and photos, she found a folded note written in careful script:
"If you've found this, it means I failed.
But I trust you'll uncover the truth I couldn't protect.
– A.S."
Nichole stared at the paper for a long time.
A.S… Alya Singgih?
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