People gasped.
Whispers spread fast—belief spreading faster than truth.
Mr. Dela Cruz raised his hand. “Enough! Jairo—security—”
Two guards started moving toward Jairo.
But Jairo smiled, because he knew the next step.
He didn’t need time.
He needed one spark.
He yelled, “Lahat kayo, mag-ingat sa kanya! Baka may baril pa ‘yan!”
That word.
Baril.
Fear keyword.
The crowd shifted. Students scooted away from me instinctively.
A few stood, panicked.
Ken raised his hands. “Hoy! Wala siyang—”
I touched Ken’s shoulder gently. “Don’t.”
This is exactly what Jairo wanted—chaos.
Then I saw the real threat.
Near the gym side door, the masked outsider slipped something into a student’s bag—fast, smooth.
I caught it because I was watching exits, not faces.
Plant attempt.
Again.
But bi
