(Lucas’s POV — Janitor)
It was my fault.
Not because I spoke out. Not because I resisted.
Just because I dropped the clipboard.
Victoria had instucted to go through Corridor D, it was to be less crowded during the mornings.38Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2F92RudQco
Clipboard in one hand, mop in the other. What could go wrong?
I turned a corner and she nearly ran into me.
Elise Horroway.
The clipboard slipped from my hands, landing face-up, right at her feet.
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She mumbled a quick “Sorry,” and bent down to help. I should’ve told her to leave it. Should’ve grabbed it faster.
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Her eyes landed on the paper.
Just for a second.
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Elise Horrow — threat, need conformed ASAP.
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I saw the shift in her expression.
I snatched it from her, muttered something about being careful, and walked away before she could ask anything.
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That was all it took.
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The next morning, my passcode didn’t work.
No locker access. No cart. No uniform in the storage room.
I checked the daily rotation chart — my name was missing. A replacement was already assigned to Corridor 4.
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I hadn’t even received a message.
My email account was gone. My nameplate removed.
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I went to the office. Spoke to the secretary. She gave me the same look they all give when they know but pretend they don’t.
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“Name?”
“Lucas. Night janitor. Hall rotation, east wing.”
She tapped.
Frowned.
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“There’s no record of your employment, sir.”
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I didn’t mean to help her.
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t whisper, warn, or resist.
I just dropped the clipboard.
That was enough.
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