Mason stepped onto the stage, took the microphone, and faced everyone.
“Excuse me, everyone,” he said calmly. “This won’t take long.”
Behind him, the projector screen lit up.
Brielle’s smile disappeared instantly.
“Brielle,” Mason said, looking straight at her, “before you leave tonight, I think everyone deserves to see what you planned.”
The first screenshot appeared.
A group chat.
Its title was impossible to miss.
LOSER WATCH.
Gasps spread through the room.
Names.
Messages.
Photos.
Cruel jokes.
Months of bullying.
All displayed for everyone to see.
“This chat has existed for seven months,” Mason said. “Students used it to rank people, mock appearances, and plan what they called lessons.”
He clicked again.
Then again.
Then again.
My son’s name appeared repeatedly.
The cruelty was worse than I had ever imagined.
“Turn it off!” Brielle screamed. “That’s private!”
“I didn’t hack anyone,” Mason said calmly. “Someone in the chat sent me this because they were tired of pretending it was okay.”
Brielle turned toward her friends.
“Who did this?”
No one answered.
Then Mason opened another message.
One Brielle had sent hours earlier.
It filled the screen in bold letters.
