By morning, Prestige has already decided what happened.

A student didn’t fall — she transferred. There was no accident — just a complication. No silence — only a cleaner narrative.

When Nia returns to campus, the building looks untouched. New posters. Fresh uniforms. Smiling donors. No trace of Amaya Briggs — except the locker marked for redistribution and a red envelope that should never exist.

Inside it is the truth Prestige doesn’t say out loud: Red Choir isn’t an honor. It’s a claim.

As Nia’s CREDIT begins to quietly slide, she learns what Echo Tier really means — not failure, but invisibility. Fewer eyes. Fewer doors. More freedom. And more danger.

Guided by forgotten hallways, blind cameras, and a janitor who knows where the school stops looking, Nia begins mapping the parts o ...