He Mocked My Scar, So I Left Him to His Regret Chapter 22

The following spring, Cedar Ridge Academy invited me back for a ceremony to formally correct my academic record.

At first, I wanted to refuse.

But Mom asked me, “Lucy, are you afraid to go back?”

I touched the place where the silver wound was now almost

invisible.

There was still no feeling there.

“I’m not afraid.”

“Then go. Not for them. For the girl you were back then.”

After the plane landed, Mom and I walked into the familiar

academy together.

The hallways looked the same.

The instructors still checked if students’ bangs covered their

eyebrows.

But a new rule was posted on the wall: *No one may shame a fellow student for scars, bloodline, or transformation traits.*

At the center of the honors board, my name had been restored to first place in my graduating class.

Under it was written: *1580*.

No Lockwood. No red mark for cheating.

Only *Lucia Vega*.

The new principal stood onstage and apologized to me, saying the school hoped to establish an outstanding graduate award in

my name.

I took the microphone.

“I don’t agree.”

A low murmur went through the audience.

“If the academy truly wants to make amends, then establish an independent appeals channel and a lunch fund.”

“Don’t let the next student have to spend three years away, earn a degree, and gain the support of another pack just to prove they did nothing wrong.”

The new principal was silent for a moment, then nodded.

After the ceremony, a girl with long bangs ran after me in the

hallway.

At her temple was a small burn scar from a failed transformation.

“Miss Vega, I read the correction notice.”

“Thank you for coming back.”

I didn’t ask what she had been through.

I only reached out and gently smoothed back the hair the wind had blown across her face.

“Don’t thank me.”

“If someone hurts you, keep the evidence and file a complaint. If no one listens the first time, go somewhere higher and do it again.”

She nodded, her eyes shining.

Sunlight poured through the window at the end of the hall, falling

across both our faces.

This time, no one stepped back.