The next day, we arrived at Veridian Preparatory Academy.
Rowan, we’ve had your academic records transferred,” Mr. Fairchild had said the night before, his tone still gruff but lacking its earlier edge. “You’ll attend with Lilith. You two sisters can look out for each other.”
A triumphant glint had flashed in Lilith’s eyes. “Don’t worry, Father. I’ll take *very* good care of my sister.”
Now, we faced the infamous Veridian placement exam, the gateway to the elite A–Track‘ or the dreaded T–Track“. The air in the grand hall hummed with the nervous energy of a hundred privileged teenagers.
We breezed through the English, History, and Physics sections with ease, a symphony of thirty minds working in concert. Then the math paper was handed out.
Advanced calculus. A collective groan went through our shared consciousness.
*Priya: This is bad. This is far beyond high school level.
*Jax: So we’re doomed to the F–Track after all?”
*Blaze: Maybe… maybe I can give it a try? I may not know calculus, but I can hear what answer the person in front of me is choosing.”
Though everyone was skeptical, they handed me the controls.
I closed my eyes, filtering out the ambient noise, focusing my hearing until it was a laser. The faint scratching sounds of the pen tip on the paper of the student in the front row became a secret language.
Option A required three distinct strokes. Option C was a single, smooth curve. B and D were both two strokes, but the downstroke for D was faster, more fluid.
It was a language only I could understand. I moved down the answer sheet, a silent scribe taking dictation from the ether.
The next day, the placement results were posted online. We were ranked 36th. Assigned to “The Galaxy Class,” the absolute top tier, a place reserved for geniuses and future titans of industry.
Back at the Fairchild mansion, Lilith intercepted us the moment we walked through the door, her phone in her hand, her face a mask of fake concern. “Sister, the results are out, aren’t they? How did you do? Don’t worry if it’s not good, we can always…”
I sighed dramatically. “Not great.”
Mrs. Fairchild came over and stroked my hair. “It’s alright, dear. The Veridian exams are notoriously difficult. We’ll get you
the best tutors.”
Mr. Fairchild held out his hand. “Rowan, let me see your results.”
11:47 PM p p.
I dutifully handed him the printout.
The moment he saw it, his eyes bulged. He read it once. Then twice. “You’ve been placed in… The
Galaxy Class!”
Lilith’s jaw dropped. The carefully constructed mask of concern shattered into a million pieces of disbelief. “What? That’s impossible!”
Mrs. Fairchild snatched the paper, her eyes scanning the words. Her face broke into a radiant, genuinely proud smile. “It really is The Galaxy Class! That’s my daughter! The power of good genes is undeniable.”
She hugged my shoulders warmly and pressed a gold credit card into my hand. “For new clothes, books, anything you need.”
Lilith stood to the side, her fists clenched, her gaze a venomous serpent fixed on us, her eyes overflowing with pure,
unadulterated hatred.
That night, a small, elegantly wrapped box was sitting on my bed.
Inside was a dead mouse. Its stomach had been sliced open. Stuffed into its hollowed–out–cavity was a small, folded note.
So you made it into the Galaxy Class. I can still make every day you spend at that school a living hell.*
