The Secret In The Yearbook, My Boyfriend Bully

I wanted our future child to take my last name, but my boyfriend was dead set against it. A kid who takes their mother's name is just asking for trouble, he argued. They'll get bullied mercilessly.

I laughed and asked him a teasing question. Why would they get bullied for that? You didn't go around bullying kids for their last names in school, did you?

His expression instantly shifted into something uncomfortable and stiff.

A chill ran down my spine. Later that night, I secretly dug through his old high school photos. There, in the corner of a class picture, was a familiar, fragile girl.

That was my sister, Clara. Three years ago, she died at her high school. The official report said she committed suicide by jumping from the roof.

And Clara was the one who had taken our mother's last name.

My boyfriend, Silas Sterling, was my senior in college. He had a stable personality and top-tier grades. Right after his internship, he landed a job at a prestigious Big Tech firm. He was the definition of a catch.

I always thought our relationship was rock solid. That was until we casually started talking about our future children. Silas, usually the gentlest soul, suddenly had a deep frown. "The kid is taking my name. Period."

I didn't catch the intensity of his mood at first. I even joked, "Why does it have to be yours? Can't they take mine?"

His tone became chillingly serious.

"Are you joking or being for real? No one gives a kid their mother's name these days. Don't you realize kids like that get targeted? They get bullied until they break."

I was confused. Silas had always pampered me. Why was he acting like this over a hypothetical name? Was his good-tempered persona just an act?

I snapped back, feeling a bit irritated. "How would you know so much about who gets bullied? Were you the one doing the bullying?"

It was just a heat-of-the-moment retort. I didn't expect his face to turn ashen. He looked away, his eyes darting toward the floor.

I caught that look. Somewhere deep in my gut, I knew this wasn't simple.

He reached out and patted my head, awkwardly changing the subject. He muttered that we could discuss the name later. But a seed of suspicion had already been planted in my heart.

When I got back to my dorm, I started rummaging through the boxes Silas had left with me.

He had stored most of his high school memorabilia at my place. Among the old yearbooks and notes, I found a class photo.

I wiped the dust off the frame. On the back, several words were written in faint ink: Northcrest High, Class of 2021.

He actually went to Northcrest High?

To be honest, if it weren't for this photo, nobody would ever associate Silas with that place.

Northcrest was a notorious school. The students there weren't interested in books; they were interested in gangs and drugs. The halls always smelled like cheap cigarettes.

The teachers there looked the other way. It wasn't that they didn't care, but a few years back, a dedicated teacher had been stabbed by a student right in the classroom.

After that, the school became a lawless wasteland. Most of the staff were outsiders lured in by high salaries because no local would touch the place.

And my sister she lost her life at Northcrest High.

Three years ago, when we got the news, my family rushed to the school. But her body was already gone. The school administration was incredibly vague and defensive.

They even had her cremated without our permission. We didn't even get to see her one last time.

My sister and I had different last namesDshe took our mother's and I took our father'sDbut we were closer than anyone.

After the incident, I fell into a deep depression. I spent months taking her photo to Northcrest, trying to find out what really happened. I refused to believe she just gave up on life.

But everyone I asked gave me the same script. "Don't know her. Don't care. Not my business."

Others were more aggressive. "They said it was suicide. What else do you want? Leave us alone."

I knew the principal had threatened them. He probably told them they wouldn't graduate if they spoke the truth.

I never found any concrete evidence. I eventually had to leave for college in another city, feeling like a failure.

My parents never stopped fighting, though. They are still trying to sue the school for justice.

Now, looking at Silas's class photo, I saw her. My sister's small, shrinking figure was huddled in the far corner. She looked almost invisible.

The seed in my heart began to sprout.

My sister took her mother's name. Silas says kids with their mother's names get bullied. Silas went to Northcrest High. A girl jumped from the roof there.

Could it really be such a huge coincidence?

I stared at that photo for hours. A single picture can reveal so much about social hierarchies.

I looked at the relationships. Silas had his arm around a guy with a buzz cut. They looked like best friends.

In front of Silas stood a girl with a large white bow in her hair. She was supposed to be in the center of the row, but she was leaning back, trying to get closer to him.

These three.

I traced my finger around their faces in a circle.

The next day, while Silas was at his internship, I lied and said I was going to the library for a deep-study session. Instead, I spent the day scouring school gossip pages and old social media archives.

Silas was a popular guy back then. Many girls had posted about him on the school's anonymous confession walls.

Ever since we started dating, he had made it a point to tag me in the comments of those old posts. He wanted everyone to know I was his girlfriend so they would stop bothering him.

Back then, my own social media profile saw a huge spike in visitors. They were all coming from Silas's tags.

They were probably curious about what kind of girl had finally landed the golden boy.

Over time, the traffic died down. The curious onlookers got their fill and moved on.

However, I noticed one person kept visiting my page. It was an account with a soft pink profile picture.

I didn't think much of it at first. I thought it was just a nosy girl. But now, I suspected it was the girl with the white bow.

Based on the photo, she clearly had a crush on him. She was likely checking my page to see if we had broken up yet.

I managed to log into Silas's old social media account. Sure enough, I found her in his friend list.

He had her saved as: Quinn Gardner.

Her recent posts showed she was an education major. She was currently interning as a student teacher at a local elementary school.

Their chat history was completely blank. I couldn't tell if they had never talked or if Silas had wiped the logs.

I took a risk and sent a message: "You there?"

To my surprise, Quinn replied almost instantly.

"I'm here! Wow, what brings you to my inbox?"

I sent her a photo of the old class picture. I typed in Silas's voice: "Look what I just found."

Quinn replied with excitement. "Oh my god! Is that our old class photo? Look at me, that bow was so extra back then!"

I was worried about how to trick her into talking, but she was making it too easy.

I decided to go straight for the jugular.

"I've been having nightmares lately. I keep dreaming about Clara."

That was my sister's name.

The instant replies stopped. A few minutes passed before she finally messaged back. "I thought we agreed never to mention her again?"

I replied, "I know. But the dreams are so vivid. I'm starting to get paranoid."

Quinn's response came quickly this time. "Don't be scared. Her death had nothing to do with us! She was just mentally weak!"

My fingers shook so hard I could barely type.

If she had really been bullied, her suicide wasn't just a choiceDit was a murder.

I swallowed my rage and typed, "Yeah. How have you been lately?"

She seemed happy I asked. "Great! I'm back in Northcrest. I'm interning at the best school in the district!"

"Good. Let's not talk for a bit. My girlfriend checks my phone like a hawk."

She sent a pouting emoji. "She sounds so controlling. If I were her, I'd never restrict your freedom."

I didn't reply. I simply deleted the entire conversation.

I kept a private backup of those messages, of course.

Silas was swamped at work lately. He hadn't even noticed I was messing with his accounts.

I also managed to track down the buzz-cut guy from the photo.

His name was Shane Maddox. He was currently a rising influencer with over a million followers.

Seeing how well the three of them were doing made me feel a strange sense of satisfaction.

Because the higher they climb, the harder they fall.

A few days later, I contacted an old classmate of mine. She ran a massive media account with five million followers. Her content focused on exposing scandals and weird stories sent in by fans.

I sent her a tip: "Million-follower influencer involved in high school bullying that led to a death."

The story was too juicy to pass up. She asked for names, but I told her to keep it anonymous for now. I promised to provide the evidence once the post gained enough traction.

She posted the teaser at a peak traffic time and boosted it with some ads. It exploded. Thousands of people were in the comments, guessing who the influencer was.

I hired a small group of internet trolls to flood the comments with Shane Maddox's name.

The suspicion shifted toward him instantly. Shane's fans were loyal, though. They demanded proof and accused everyone of defamation.

Soon, a former student from Northcrest High stepped forward with evidence. They confirmed that a girl in Shane's class had indeed jumped to her death.

More alumni started coming out of the woodwork. The incident had been a huge scandal back then, and people in the neighborhood remembered it well.

One former classmate was particularly brave. He posted a public comment: "It was Shane. He and two othersDa guy and a girlDbullied that girl relentlessly. We all saw it. But the principal threatened us. He said we wouldn't graduate if we talked. I've already got my degree now, so screw him! I can't believe a piece of trash like Shane became famous. I block him every time he pops up on my feed!"

That comment was upvoted to the very top.

Shane was trapped in a whirlwind of public outrage. People who had always found him annoying but were afraid to speak up now attacked him in droves.

Shane immediately posted a legal notice. He claimed it was all lies and threatened to sue my friend's account.

I told my mother to call the police. I wanted to use these new witnesses to reopen the case from three years ago.

The police showed up at Shane's door shortly after.

At first, Shane was arrogant. He thought too much time had passed for anyone to care.

He didn't realize that Clara's family had never forgotten.

Shane's social media went silent. He didn't follow through with his lawsuits. To the public, his silence was a confession.

His follower count began to plummet. Thousands of people unfollowed him every hour.

My friend posted an update: "Sources say Shane Maddox is currently under police investigation."

Of course, I was that source.

During all this, the news naturally reached Silas's ears.

I could tell he was distracted. When we ate together, he would just stare at his plate in a daze.

I brought up the news casually. He jumped as if I'd shocked him, then muttered some vague nonsense to brush it off.

Quinn was also panicking. She kept messaging Silas, but she didn't realize I was the one holding the phone.

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