Flint paused, choosing his words carefully. "ntingtro."


    Male? Twenty-three years old? Shanley seized on the key details, his lips tightening as a chilling aura emanated from him.


    ntingtro? He''d better be telling the truth, and not have any other motives.


    ...


    The next day, the graduation g was held. Student representatives from every school in the city were invited to participate, and the cultural center was buzzing with activity.


    After picking up the dress, Juniper searched for a while before finding the spot designated for Aurora High—a corner of the lobby, right next to the brooms and trash cans. There weren''t enough chairs, so the Aurora High students were forced to cram together.


    Salma stood politely by the door, ready to greet the teachers from other schools. However, most of them deliberately ignored her outstretched hand as they passed. Salma smiled awkwardly, but quicklyposed herself and went to talk to her students.


    Juniper''s lips thinned, a dangerous glint in her cold eyes.


    “Juniper, you''re here?” Salma saw her and walked over, her steps a little unsteady.


    "It''s so hot out. Thank you for doing this, dear," she said gently, treating Juniper with the same warmth she showed every other student, regardless of her reputation as a troublemaker.


    "It was no trouble." Juniper''s gaze was fixed on Salma as she spoke, her voice a little hoarse.


    "Tell Queenie not to be nervous. The most important thing is to be safe. Winning an award doesn''t matter."


    Compared to the other teachers who were drilling their students on technique and focus, Salma''s words were incredibly heartwarming. All she wanted was for her students toe to school and return home safely.


    "It doesn''t matter?" Juniper''s pink lips curved into a smile, her voice deep and cold. "I think it''s quite important."


    "What?" The lobby was noisy, and Salma hadn''t heard her clearly.


    "Salma, you should sit and rest. You''re going to be very busy soon." Juniper didn''t repeat herself. She told Qadir to look after Salma and then headed backstage with the dress bag.


    Busy? What on earth was this girl talking about? Salma watched Juniper''s slender yet resolute back and sighed with a helpless smile.


    ...


    Backstage, all the performers were getting ready in onerge room. Queenie sat nervously in a corner, wearing the same dress from the rehearsal. The g was set to start in less than twenty minutes, and she had no idea if Juniper had managed to borrow a proper costume.


    The students from Era High nced at Queenie, then deliberately spoke up. "Oh my god, Ynda, you changed your dance costume?"


    "Is that a high-end custom piece from ''The One''? It must be incredibly expensive!"


    "Expensive? My mother bought it, so I''m not sure. I think it was only around fifty thousand dors," Ynda said with a faint, breezy smile. "I was just picking something from my closet and realized this one suited today''s dance better than yesterday''s."


    Wow. A random dress from her closet cost over five figures. This was a true heiress. Just how rich and powerful was her family?


    "Ynda, with that dress, you''ll be the center of attention." The girl showered her withpliments, trying to cozy up to her while raising her voice to make sure Queenie heard. "Unlike the dress some people are wearing. Even my grandmother would look old in that."


    Laughter erupted.


    "By the way, Waheed already bought a cake to celebrate when you win."


    "Great," Ynda replied with a serene smile. She nced at the anxious Queenie and the rags she was wearing, and the sneer on her lips widened.


    After yesterday''s rehearsal, she had felt uneasy, afraid she might actually lose to Queenie. So, she had her father pull some strings and, through gritted teeth, spent fifty thousand dors on a dress from ''The One.'' The brand was famous for its high- end, custom-madepetition wear. Wearing it would increase her chances of winning by at least half.


    Plus... Ynda looked over at the man in charge of the music, who gave her a slight nod.


    Her confidence soared. Everything was ready.


    Compete? How could a country bumpkin like Queenie even think ofpeting with her? What a joke!