Amaya considered this. "What's in this chat?"
"Everything. Videos of hazing rituals. Screenshots of test answers they've stolen. Plans for parties where they spike drinks and..." Kevin hesitated. "Conversations about you before and after the hair incident."
Amaya's heart raced. "Can I show you—can I see?"
Kevin nodded. "Not here. Meet me at the public library after school, computer lab."
That afternoon, Amaya sat next to Kevin as he logged into a laptop with multiple privacy shields running. "I downloaded everything," he explained. "It goes back over a year."
What Kevin showed her made Amaya's blood run cold. The Legacy Group chat wasn't just a few boys being cruel. It was a coordinated network of Westbridge's elite students, sharing racist, sexist, and violent content. They discussed bribing teachers for grades, blackmailing students who threatened to report them, and putting people in their place.
And there, in text messages dated the day before her attack, was the smoking gun: Brett: new girl needs to learn her lesson tomorrow after practice. Troy: what are we thinking? Brett: that hair of hers. Too proud of it. Let's fix that. Kyle: seriously, that's hardcore. Brett: trust me, no one will believe her. We'll just say it was a welcome prank that she agreed to. Mason: I don't know, man. Brett: don't chicken out now. Either you're with us or against us.
Kevin scrolled through more recent messages showing Brett planning the locker setup, complete with details on how they'd stolen the microscope lenses and planted them.
"This is..." Amaya couldn't find the words.
"Criminal," Kevin finished for her. "Multiple counts: assault, theft, conspiracy."
"Why are you showing me this? Why help me?"
Kevin's expression darkened. "They hazed my little brother last year—freshman initiation. Locked him in a storage closet overnight. He was so traumatized he transferred schools. No one believed us when we reported it."
Amaya studied the chat logs, her mind racing. "Can I get copies of all this?"
"Already done," Kevin said, handing her a USB drive. "Pero be careful. If they find out I gave you this—"
"They won't," Amaya promised. "Thank you, Kevin."
That night, Amaya showed everything to her father. Elijah reviewed the chat logs with growing anger. "This is it," he said finally. "This is what we needed. But Amaya," he looked at her seriously, "if you use this, they'll come after you hard: the mayor, the school, Brett, and his friends. They'll all see you as a threat to their way of life."
Amaya touched the dog tags around her neck, thinking of her mother, of all the people who had been silenced by fear. "Then let them," she said firmly.
The next day at school, Amaya noticed a shift in Lexi's behavior. Usually confident and outspoken, Brett's ex-girlfriend was quiet, withdrawn. After their last class, Amaya found Lexi alone in the bathroom crying.
"What happened?" Amaya asked.
Lexi looked up, her eyes red and swollen. "I went to a party last night. Brett was there with Heather. He saw me talking to Tom and just lost it. Started saying horrible things, pushed Tom against a wall."
"Did he hurt you?"
Lexi hesitated, then pulled up her sleeve to reveal finger-shaped bruises on her arm. "He grabbed me when I tried to intervene. Said if I didn't control myself, he'd make sure everyone saw some photos he has from when we were dating."
Amaya felt a surge of anger. "That's blackmail."
"That's Brett," Lexi said bitterly. "I ended up drinking too much, trying to forget. Tom took me home. My parents are furious."
"Lexi, this has to stop. Brett needs to face consequences."
"How? No one stands up to him."
"I am," Amaya said. "And I could use your help. Would you be willing to testify about what he did? Not just to me, but to you, too?"
Lexi looked terrified at the thought. "I can't. Those photos..."
"What if you could do it anonymously? At first, just a written statement."
After a moment, Lexi nodded slowly. "I could do that. But Brett can never know it was me."
"He won't," Amaya promised, though she wasn't entirely sure she could keep that promise.
Later that day, Amaya found a folded piece of paper in her locker. Inside was a photo of her and her father through the window of their house taken at night. Beneath it, written in block letters: Back off or else.
A chill ran down Amaya's spine. She quickly folded the paper and put it in her pocket, looking around the hallway. No one seemed to be watching her, but the message was clear: they were escalating.
When she got home, Amaya showed the threat to her father. Elijah's expression darkened as he studied the photo. "They're watching the house," he said grimly. "Time to upgrade our security."
That night, Elijah installed motion sensor lights around the perimeter of their home and set up small cameras at key points. He also checked his gun safe, making sure his service pistol was secure but accessible if needed.
"I don't want you walking home alone anymore," he told Amaya. "I'll pick you up after practice."
"Dad, I can't live in fear."