SLOANE
The announcement came on a Friday.
Not with fanfare. Not with a drumroll or a ceremony or even a proper all-staff meeting. Castillo simply walked into the newsroom at the start of third period, set his coffee on the desk, uncapped a dry-erase marker, and wrote a single name on the whiteboard.
**EDITOR-IN-CHIEF: SLOANE WINTERS**
Then he turned around.
“Congratulations,” he said. “Now get to work.”
The room erupted. Riley—who had somehow gotten wind of the decision and already texted me about it a minute ago—punched the air so hard she hit the doorframe. Mel made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a cheer. Nora slow-clapped from the copy desk with genuine warmth. Even Chris, the perpetually anxious sophomore, looked up from his fact-checking spreadsheet and gave a single nod,
