A/N: Important: All chapters from fifteen and onward have been replaced with re-writes, events are different and context has been changed.

Sophia wasn't here today, which was nice to see. And after the thorough tongue lashing Lisa had given the other girls last time, none of them seem to be willing to approach us when we were together. But we weren't always side by side, making the trip between classes something of a game of hide and seek as I attempted to avoid Emma and Madison.

I managed to make it third period without much happening to me. The occasional insult, the odd remark, and some ugly notes left behind on my desk. Hardly anything worth caring about, but it was the fact that it was happening at all bothered me.

I shuffled into Mr. Germino's European history class, my last class before lunch. He was by far my favourite teacher here, he was laid back but didn't really care about who was popular and who wasn't like some teachers I had seen. He was a fan of giving lectures, and to him, you're either listening or not. And if you're not then you were disrupting the class. No student was an exception, which was nice as I happened to share this class with Madison and Greg.

Today Mr. Germino was sitting in his chair looking over the rims of his glasses at a computer screen. The telltale sign that he was skipping the lecture in favour of a video he found online. Taking my seat in the far corner of the room, I tried my best to look unassuming as I could with silvery purple hair. It had only been two days since I had come to school like this and I was still getting stares, but so were a few other girls that had adopted the style. I had made it without interruption when Greg entered the room.

I vaguely recall noting some changes in him before I had left school for a little bit of time, but they had happened so slowly that I hadn't even paid too much attention to them. He recalled he had lost some of his pudginess and got rid of the God awful bob cut he had. But after spending two weeks away from school seeing him again really highlighted those changes.

He didn't just lose his pudge, he was almost skinny. And the only reason he wasn't was because of the amount of muscle he had packed on. It was just past the point of being toned, he was actually muscular. Closer to a quarterback than anything.

He sat down in the seat next to me with a silly grin.

"Hey Taylor," he said. "Nice hair."

Well, good to see not everything had changed.

Although, oddly enough he turned away and started getting out his school materials. Normally I'm treated to nonstop chatter that only ends when the teach ends it, which is never soon enough. I decide to count it as a blessing and not question it.

"Alright people," Gemino said, rising out of his chair. Instantly conversation in the room quieted as people hurried to finish their sentences before tapering off completely. "I don't feel like doing much today, and I know you don't feel like doing much. So today you're welcome to work on assignments from other classes as the rest of us watch the PRT's public statement released just an hour or so ago. If you are going to talk, only do so with your neighbor and keep it quiet."

Mr. Gemino walked over to the ancient projector and turned it on, the lens being so old that spots of light shone through places it had worn out and showed up like stars on the white screen he pointed it at. Getting a student to shut the lights off, he walked back over to his computer and started the video.

It was a dishonest review of everything that had happened, filled with euphemisms, carefully chosen words, and lots of things used to pull people's attention away from the slightly more daunting details. Honestly, it sounded really good, and if I hadn't been there I probably would have accepted this explanation. But I was there, and I was angry.

How often did they do this? Who isn't to say they didn't do it every time? I had been following the news the PRT put out all my life. That is fourteen going on fifteen years of deceit they could have pumped into me. This was how they handled grim situations? With misdirection and half truths? The thought that they have probably been doing this all my life and before left me feeling sick.

And then I felt something cold drop into my stomach when they announced a new Ward joining their team in spite of recent developments. Director Piggot herself introduced them all to Shadow Stalker, their newest Ward.

One day. Less than twelve hours after killing a person and they made her a Ward. They made a murderer a Ward.

And Rune took two weeks and never even got out of that cell.

The bell rang at that moment and I just sat there in stunned, angry silence, making sure my anger wasn't going to make me loose hold on my human form. Greg was one of the slower people to get up. Methodically, he packed his things away and slipped them into his backpack, then hesitated before leaving.

"Are… you going to lunch?" He asked cautiously. I gave a stiff nod. Once again, somewhat surprisingly, Greg accepted that answer with a nod and left. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment and willed myself to calm down.

I grabbed my bag and worked my way out of the room, focusing on the floor and tuning out what was going on around me because I knew if I heard even one sly remark about me in any fashion it was going to take everything I could not lay into that person.

I wasn't anywhere near calm by the time I got to the cafeteria, but I did think I had managed to bring it down ever so slightly. The sight of Lisa already sitting at what had become our usual spot had given me a slightly cooler feeling. I worked my way through the lunch line, every single second I had to spend waiting for the person in front of me to move only made me that much more angry. I imagined myself going down to the PRT and yelling directly at Piggot. That would make me feel better, even if it would put me in a worse standing with them. Which quite honestly, I didn't care about anymore. The PRT was useless and apparently being associated with racists was worse than murder.

I got my lunch and the little tray that came with it. I hadn't had time to pack my lunch this morning because of last night's exploits. I was walking towards Lisa with it in hand when Emma stepped in my way.

"Why you look so angry, Taylor?" Emma asked in her sickly sweet voice. "Upset you spilt your lunch?" As soon as she said it, her hand came up and smack the tray upwards in my hands, causing the food to go all over my clothing.

I snapped, just like her jaw when I punched her in the face as hard as I possibly could.

I'm reminded of the time all those inspirational speakers and other overly optimistic adults say that revenge doesn't feel as good as you think, or that hurting people that hurt you wasn't going to make you feel better. And then I'm reminded that those people are liars.

Punching Emma in the face felt fantastic and immediately afterwards I felt a rush of adrenaline flood my system and my blood started roaring in my ears. I didn't even care as the other girls started screaming that I was a psychopath and some sort of violent person or whatever it was, because at this moment I had done what I had wanted to do for a while now.

Emma was struggling to get up off the floor and Lisa was almost by my side when I felt a teacher grab me by my upper arm and start dragging me out of the cafeteria. I didn't look to see who it was, I didn't care. I did know that Lisa was right behind me though. A vulpine grin on her face.

I was marched right into the office and sat down in the waiting area. They tried to stop Lisa from coming with me, but a few pointed words later she was sitting across from me with a sly grin.

I wanted to ask her why she was smiling, but they had the vice principal standing in the room to keep us from speaking with each other. Over the next thirty minutes girls were brought in one by one to tell Principal Blackwell their version of the story. The time gave me the relief I needed to cool off from the events. I had to avoid thinking about Shadow Stalker because every single time I did another spike of anger shot through me.

Finally, I was told to get up and go into her office, the vice principal right behind me. The woman looked at me coldly and said,

"Sit."

I did so, not really caring at this point.

"So Miss Hebert, would you like to explain to me why I have a dozen girls saying you punched Emma Barnes in the face completely out of the blue?"

"Emma attacked me," I said lamely. I didn't expect her to believe it so I wasn't going to put the effort into it to try and make her think otherwise.

"Miss Hebert, we've been through this before. You only dig yourself a deeper hole by lying to me. Every girl that had just been in here said the same thing, that you attacked Emma not the other way around. You are seriously going to suggest that all of those girls were lying and that you are the only one telling the truth?"

"Yes, she is." Lisa declared marching into the room.

"Excuse me," Blackwell said, rising from her seat. "I don't believe I called you in her-"

"And you weren't going to," Lisa interrupted her. "Because I would confirm her story and then you would have to take that into account and you don't want to."

Blackwell frowned. "Listen here young lady I haven't seen you in this office before and this is not a good way to start. Now turn around and get back to class before I suspend you."

"Then suspend me," Lisa said with a shrug. "I'll use the time more productively. But what you won't do is punish Taylor."

"And why is that?" Blackwell asked acidly.

"Because all the other girls are lying on Emma's behalf," Lisa said simply.

"You expect me to-"

"Yes," Lisa cut her off. "Because I recorded it." Lisa held up a phone, a large picture of me and Emma standing across from each other with a large play button right in the centre.

"Let me see," Blackwell demanded, holding out her hand. Lisa raised an eyebrow at her.

"So you can confiscate it and delete the video? Yeah, right. But you can watch." Lisa hit the play button and thirty seconds of footage played showing the incident exactly how it played out. Blackwell sank back into her seat and laced her fingers together tightly.

"I see," Blackwell said through an obviously forced calm. "In that case, I'll be handing out detentions to all of those involved. While you Miss Hebert will be s-"

"Going to classes like normal or I take this to the media," Lisa said with a grin. Blackwell narrowed her eyes at her.

"This is hardly a newsworthy story."

"Not yet," Lisa corrected her. "But if you punish the victim harsher than the bullies, who have in fact bullied her before and you've done nothing, then that would be newsworthy. And if Emma's father or anyone else pushes a lawsuit, then I'm sure it will get even more publicity when it comes out the an up and coming model is allowed to bully other students."

Blackwell's hand shook as she squeezed them together tightly. She closed her eyes and thought a moment. I felt a smile spread across my face as she realized there would be no easy choice here. Once again, Lisa to the rescue.

"Two weeks detention for everyone, including you two." Blackwell finally said, with a defeated sigh. "And Emma gets a mark on her permanent recorded."

"That'll do," Lisa said with a smile.