By the time the school fundraiser reached its final hour, everyone in the ballroom had already decided who was going to win.

At least, that was what they thought.

The room glittered beneath strings of warm lights. Parents stood around tall cocktail tables, teachers moved between booths, and students in carefully chosen outfits laughed beneath enormous banners advertising the annual Bright Futures Fund.

The event was supposed to raise money for student programs.

Music.

Science competitions.

Athletic equipment.

Scholarships.

The school had promised that the students themselves would decide which programs received the largest share.

For sixteen-year-old Nora Ellis, that promise mattered.

It mattered because her younger brother, Eli, needed one of those programs.

Eli was thirteen and had a neurological condition that made crowded environments difficult for him. For two years, he had wanted to join the school's robotics club, but the club didn't have enough adaptive equipment for students who needed alternative controls.

The fundraiser could change that.

Nora had spent months volunteering.

She had organized donation tables.

She had counted tickets.

She had checked registration lists.

And tonight, she had been assigned to help supervise the student vote.

She was proud of that responsibility.

She also knew better than most students how easily numbers could be manipulated.

That was why she kept checking everything twice.

Names.

Ballots.

Signatures.

Timestamps.

At 9:15 p.m., she noticed something strange.

One ballot was printed on slightly different paper.

She held it beneath the light.

The official ballots had a faint blue line running through the center.

This one didn't.

Nora frowned.

She compared it with another.

Different.

She checked the back.

There was no school printer code.

Her stomach tightened.

She looked toward the voting table.

Across the ballroom stood Victoria Sterling.

Everyone knew Victoria.

Her father owned half the businesses in town.

Her mother sat on the school foundation board.

Victoria wore a silver dress that seemed to reflect every light in the room.

And wherever Victoria went, three friends followed.

Lena.

Sophie.

Madison.

They were called the Sterling Circle by students who liked them.

The rest of the school simply called them the Circle.

Nora had never belonged to either group.

She wasn't poor.

She wasn't rich.

She wasn't invisible.

She was simply the kind of student who believed rules were supposed to mean something.

Victoria noticed Nora staring.

She walked over.

"Everything okay?"

Nora held up the ballot.

"This one looks different."

Victoria glanced at it.

Then smiled.

"It's probably a replacement."

"Who printed it?"

Victoria shrugged.

"How would I know?"

Nora looked at the ballot again.

"Every official form has a serial code."

Victoria's smile disappeared for half a second.

Then returned.

"You take this stuff way too seriously."

"It's money."

"So?"

"So it matters."

Victoria leaned closer.

"Relax, Nora."

Then she walked away.

Nora watched her disappear into the crowd.

Something felt wrong.

She checked the ballot box.

It was sealed.

The lock was intact.

But when she lifted it slightly, she noticed something.