Part 2: The Aftermath in the Hallway
The auditorium doors slammed shut behind the assembly, trapping the heavy silence inside.
Students filed out in stunned clusters, avoiding each other’s eyes. The whispers started the second they hit the hallway, but this time, nobody laughed. They stared at the floor, whispering about the sealed file, the mission logs, and the cold look in Admiral Carter’s eyes.
Mr. Reynolds walked with his head down, clutching his leather briefcase as if it could shield him from the stares.
Principal Harris intercepted him near the faculty lounge. Her expression was sharp, drained of any professional warmth.
“Mr. Reynolds, my office. Now,” she said.
I stayed back near the trophy case, waiting for my mother. She walked out of the auditorium with Admiral Carter, the two of them speaking in the low, measured tones of officers who had shared airspace under fire. When she saw me, her severe military posture softened instantly. She gave the admiral a crisp nod, excused herself, and walked over.
