"Principal, I don’t understand... why would you embarrass like that?" Mrs. Johnson still couldn’t wrap her head around why Principal Wilson had made her apologize in front of the students.
Yes, she had accused Matthew based on what Catherine told her, but a private apology would have been enough. She was one of the school’s long-standing teachers. Respected. Why crush her dignity like that?
She gave him a sharp look, expecting an explanation.
"I think I deserve an answer," she said.
"It ca from the Dean," Wilson replied.
"What?" Her expression shifted imdiately. "What do you an?"
"The email. It was from the Dean himself. So whatever you’re thinking, I suggest you stop now. Looks like you underestimated Matthew Lindberg’s background."
"But—"
"There’s no point arguing," Wilson cut in. "You’ve already apologized, and that’s what matters. I have other things to handle." He let out a breath and motioned for her to leave.
In fact, Lindberg University was a school for the elite. However, this ant that every decision, no matter how small, had to be weighed carefully. Principal Wilson had learned this lesson early. With so many powerful families involved, it was never just about discipline or education. It was about politics. Appearances. Balance.
He glanced at Mrs. Johnson, still standing stiff with indignation. He gestured for her to sit, though he knew she wouldn’t. It didn’t matter.
"You need to understand," he said, pulling a file from his desk and thumbing through it absentmindedly. "This school isn’t as simple as you think. Yes, it’s nad after the Lindberg Family. But the board doesn’t answer to them alone."
He set the file down and leaned back.
"There’s a governing council. Seven mbers. Each one represents a founding family or major stakeholder. The Dean answers to them directly. Not . I’m just the principal of the high school division. I don’t even have a seat at their table."
He rubbed his temples briefly.
"Decisions at that level? They don’t ask for my opinion. They inform . That’s it."
Mrs. Johnson didn’t speak. She only looked away, her jaw tight.
"And Matthew..." Wilson paused, tapping his pen against the desk. "Let’s just say he’s been given more leeway than most. The current patriarch favors him. More than Lenox, it seems."
Hearing this, Mrs. Johnson’s eyes narrowed. How could soone favor a relative over their own child? The more she thought about it, the more sympathy she felt for Lenox. He had always been well provided for, but it was no secret that his father never showed up for etings or award ceremonies.
People used to say Mr. Lindberg was simply too busy with his multinational business. But now, it seed there was more to it. This wasn’t about being busy. This was about choosing soone else over his own son.
She clenched her jaw.
Fine, she thought. If Mr. Lindberg favored Matthew, then she’d make it her goal to expose who Matthew really was—and help Lenox co out on top.
...
"Wow!" Teddy leaned his elbows on the desk and nudged Matthew’s tray with a grin. "I still can’t believe she actually apologized. Mrs. Johnson. Like a full-on apology in front of everyone. I thought she’d rather choke than admit she was wrong."
Matthew didn’t say anything. He was stirring the rice with his spoon, not really paying attention to the food in front of him. Mrs. Johnson has been known for her sharp tongue. Even he was surprised when she apologized.
Teddy kept going. "You should’ve seen the looks on Catherine and Lenox’s faces when they walked in. I swear Lenox tried to act calmly, like he wasn’t surprised, but Catherine was different. You saw it... you saw it, right?" Teddy couldn’t hide his excitent as he continued.
"She looked like she had bitten into sothing sour. I heard she went to the principal’s office early this morning to complain."
Matthew finally looked at him.
As expected, Cristoff had handled everything with precision. Matthew didn’t react outwardly, but the pieces lined up. Once the footage surfaced and no formal complaint was filed, the school had no choice but to back off.
Cristoff must’ve put pressure on the principal and obviously the Dean. Matthew couldn’t help but wonder what exactly he did. All he’d told him was to keep it clean—and Cristoff delivered.
Just as expected, Matthew thought.
He also wondered what the Principal said to Mrs. Johnson? She was the loudest one yesterday. Clearly, she had dug her own grave.
"Anyway," Teddy continued, grabbing his utensils. "Last day of exams tomorrow. I’m just glad this week’s almost over. I actually feel a lot better now."
"Eat your food," Matthew said, not looking up from his tray.
"Oh, right." Teddy shoveled a spoonful into his mouth.
That finally gave Matthew a mont of quiet.
Sort of.
"You know, I really miss food," the ghost girl said, floating just behind Teddy’s shoulder. She had been following him around since this morning. "Like, what does that taste like? What are you eating? That looks like pork. Is that pork?"
Matthew ignored her.
"Or is it chicken? Is that rice? That’s definitely rice. You’re so lucky. I want to taste rice again. Even just once."
"Is it warm?" the ghost girl asked. "Or is it one of those weird lukewarm US cafeteria food?"
Matthew blinked slowly and lifted a spoon to his mouth.
"Co on," she said. "Just describe it. You don’t even have to talk out loud. Think it. Think of the taste."
Matthew chewed. Slowly. Then swallowed.
"Well?" she asked. "What’s the verdict?"
He thought, It’s bland. But Matthew knew the real reason. Lately, sothing else had been keeping him full—and it didn’t involve eating. Absorbing ghosts was easier. And right now, it was the only thing that seed to satisfy him.
The ghost girl groaned dramatically and floated a little higher. "Ugh. That’s the worst. Not even a little salty? No spicy sauce? No garlic? Do they even know how to season food in this place?"
He picked up another bite, this ti with egg.
"That egg better not be rubbery."
It was.
He kept eating anyway.
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