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It just confirms that it was intentional.

The man sitting in front of me looks up immediately, like he wasn’t expecting anyone this late. For a second, neither of us speaks. I just look around, trying to figure out how to not lose it and then I say, “I need access logs.”

He blinks, thrown off by the lack of context. “Sir… access logs for what exactly?”

I let the door fall shut behind me, then step further in. “The cameras outside the east students dorm,” I say.

“…Why would you need those, Mister Caldwell?”

I stop a few feet from his desk. “I need to know who turned them off.”

He shifts in his chair, uncomfortably before stuttering, “Those systems are handled internally, I—I can’t just⁠—”

I reach for my badge, unclip it and set it down in front of him. “I’m not asking.”

His eyes drop to it, and whatever uncertainty was in his posture tightens into something else. “Oh.”

Yeah. Oh.

“So I’ll ask again,” I say, my voice lower now. “Who accessed the system tonight?”

He turns back to his screen immediately this time, fingers already moving, a little too fast, a little too eager to cooperate. “No one from our team logged any manual shutdown tonight,” he says, pulling up the records. “It would have flagged, unless⁠—”

“Unless what.”

He swallows. “Unless it came from administrative override.”

“Meaning?”

He hesitates again, “Meaning… someone with higher clearance. Headmaster level.”

The room feels smaller all of a sudden, it’s quieter. Fucking bastard. I pick my badge back up, clipping it back into place. “Pull the exact time,” I say.

He nods quickly. “Yes, sir.”

And just like that, I already know where I’m going next.

I’m there in a few seconds. As I open the door without knocking, I hope he’s still there, probably sitting on his stupid throne he built on lies.

He is.

When my eyes meet his, I feel something burning inside me. Loathing someone this passionately is an instinct ability. You know when a person’s soul is stained by corruption the moment you meet their eyes. This man is a pure product of that, rotten to the core.

He’s behind his desk, exactly where I expect him to be. Same posture, same stillness, like nothing in this building ever reaches him unless he decides it should. That kind of control always costs something. I’m still deciding yet what he’s paying it with. His life? Blood? Or maybe, humiliation…

I close the door slowly and hear his little sigh. “Agent Caldwell,” he says.

I step forward, looking around before pulling my sleeves up. “The cameras outside the east dorm were shut off.”

He leans back slightly. “Shut off is a strong term,” he replies. “They were rerouted.”

“Rerouted to what exactly?” I ask.

“Scheduled maintenance.”

My hand tightens around my tie and I laugh. “Funny that you’re saying that after I’ve read the logs,” I say. “There was no maintenance record.”

He tilts his head, his fingers tap once against the edge of his desk. “That would depend on which system you accessed,” he replies.