Chapter 36 — The Reveal

Both mommy and daddy had been chatting, but at Elara and Quinn's approach, they fell silent, watching the two girls. Mommy's eyebrow rose. “Can we help you?”

“I believe you can,” Elara said, settling in. “You've been docking us points despite our efforts and we need that to stop.”

Mommy leaned back in her chair, her lips pursing slightly as she exchanged a quick glance with Daddy. Her tone was cool, almost patronizing, as she folded her hands on the table. “Docking points? That’s a serious accusation. Perhaps you’d care to explain what you mean by ‘efforts’?”

Elara’s jaw tightened, but she kept her voice steady, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. “You know exactly what we mean. We’ve been jumping through every hoop, doing everything asked of us, and still our reports come back with barely passing marks. It’s bullshit, and we’re done playing along.”

Daddy let out a low chuckle, swirling the drink in his glass before setting it down with a deliberate clink. “Watch your tone, young lady. We grade based on performance, not excuses. If your scores are low, maybe you should look at your own work instead of pointing fingers at us.”

Quinn scoffed, crossing her arms as she shot him a glare. “Performance? Please. We’ve seen how they score others who kiss up to them. We’re not blind. You’re punishing us for not bowing down, and it’s obvious.”

Mommy’s smile was thin, barely reaching her eyes as she tilted her head. “Punishing you? That’s quite the imagination. Our evaluations are fair and consistent. If you feel otherwise, perhaps you should file a formal complaint through the proper channels instead of ambushing us at dinner.”

“Oh, we’re way past complaints,” Elara snapped, her voice rising just enough to draw a few curious glances from nearby tables. She forced herself to lower it again, but the edge remained. “We’ve tried talking. Nothing changes. So now we’re here, face to face, telling you it stops tonight.”

Daddy raised an eyebrow, his amusement fading into something harder. “Telling us? You don’t get to make demands. You’re students, not administrators. If there’s a problem with your grades, prove it with better work, not tantrums.”

Quinn leaned in now, her eyes narrowing. “Tantrums? This isn’t a game to us. These scores are tanking our standing here, and we know it’s personal. You’ve got no reason to mark us down like this unless there’s something else at play.”

Mommy’s fingers tapped lightly on the table, her gaze flicking between the two girls. “Something else at play? That sounds like a conspiracy theory. Care to elaborate, or are you just throwing around vague accusations to see what sticks?”

Elara smirked faintly, though her heart was pounding. “We’ve got plenty to elaborate on if we need to. But right now, we’re giving you a chance to fix this quietly. Adjust our marks—full credit for what we’ve done—and we won’t have to take this conversation any further.”

Daddy’s expression darkened, his voice dropping low. “Is that a threat? Because I assure you, threatening us won’t get you anywhere but in deeper trouble.”

“It’s not a threat,” Quinn cut in sharply, matching his intensity. “It’s a request—for now. But keep pushing us, and you’ll see how fast a request turns into something else.”

Mommy sighed, almost theatrical in her exasperation, as she leaned back again. “Girls, this is getting tiresome. If you have evidence of unfair grading, present it. Otherwise, this little stunt of yours is just wasting everyone’s time—including yours.”

Elara’s hands clenched under the table, but she forced a tight smile. “We’re not wasting time. We’re done being screwed over. So let’s cut the crap—give us what we deserve on those reports, and we walk away happy. Refuse, and this chat gets a whole lot louder.”

The air between them crackled with tension, both sides sizing each other up, waiting for someone to flinch first. Nearby students pretended not to listen, though their sidelong glances betrayed their curiosity about the brewing storm at the table.

Mommy’s gaze bore into Elara and Quinn, her eyes sharp and unyielding, making Elara squirm in her seat. The slight dampness in her diaper pressed against her skin—hadn’t she been dry just minutes ago? The sensation only heightened the tension knotting in her stomach as she tried to hold her ground.

“Listen here, little girl,” Mommy said, her voice low and laced with authority as she leaned closer across the table. “I don’t know what game you’re trying to play, but you’re both first-year students, and our word will always be taken over yours. So if you want to threaten us, go ahead and do so. We’ll have you expelled faster than you can blink.”

Elara swallowed hard, her throat tight, but Quinn jumped in before she could respond. “We don’t want to leave the school,” Quinn said sharply, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “But we want to have the freedom other first-years have too. It’s not fair—”

“Not fair?” Mommy interjected with a cold laugh, cutting Quinn off mid-sentence. Her arm swept out toward the other students filling the dining hall. “This isn’t about being fair. You don’t get to decide what is and isn’t right for yourself. Do you think for even one second they aren’t as restricted as you? Do you think their indecencies stop behind closed doors? Because I assure you they don’t.” Her tone grew firmer, almost condescending. “Fine, yes, we are the most public with our control, but that’s because it’s been proven to help establish your mindset and set you up for success.”

“You can’t possibly think that!” Elara blurted out, her voice cracking slightly as frustration boiled over. Her face flushed hot under Mommy’s piercing stare. “How can public humiliation possibly set us up for success?”

Mommy shook her head slowly, a faint smirk playing at the corners of her mouth as if Elara’s outburst was childish. “You don’t understand yet,” she said calmly, folding her hands again. “There’s a lot of information you aren’t privy to. You’ll see the world differently when you’re in our shoes—assuming you get that far.”

Daddy nodded beside her, his expression hard but smug. “She’s right. You’re looking at this through a narrow lens because that’s all you know right now. Our methods aren’t up for debate—they’ve worked for years before you got here and will keep working long after you’re gone.”

Quinn’s eyes narrowed as she leaned forward again. “Worked for who? Not for us. We’re drowning under your so-called ‘methods,’ getting marked down for no reason while others skate by. If this is your idea of success, then maybe your system’s broken.”

Mommy’s smirk didn’t waver as she tilted her head slightly. “Broken? Or just beyond your comprehension? You’re quick to judge what you can’t grasp. Keep pushing like this, though, and you’ll find out how little patience we have for insolence.”

Elara’s fingers dug into her thighs under the table, the damp padding shifting uncomfortably as her pulse raced. “We’re not asking to tear down your system,” she said through gritted teeth. “We’re asking to be graded fairly—same as everyone else. That’s not insolence; that’s common sense.”

Daddy let out a short bark of laughter, shaking his head. “Common sense doesn’t apply when you storm up to us making demands like you run this place. You’ve got guts—I’ll give you that—but no leverage. So unless you’ve got something real to back up all this noise, I suggest you rethink your approach.”

Quinn shot a sideways glance at Elara, a silent question passing between them about whether to push harder now or hold off. Elara’s heart thudded louder, knowing they were teetering on the edge of revealing more than they’d planned this early. But she forced herself to meet Daddy’s gaze head-on. “Oh, we’ve got plenty to back it up,” she said coolly. “Question is whether you want to hear it here or keep pretending everything’s fine.”

The tension at the table thickened further. Mommy’s eyes flickered with something unreadable—curiosity or irritation—but she didn’t flinch. “If you’re so sure of yourselves, if you’re so certain whatever it is you have on us is that good, go ahead and spill it.” Her voice dripped with mockery, her eyes glinting with cold amusement. “I’m starting to think you’re both full of hot air and nothing else.”

Elara’s throat tightened, her pulse hammering in her ears as she shared a quick glance with Quinn. The other girl’s expression was resolute, her nod firm and encouraging. Elara took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling as she pushed herself to her feet. The scrape of her chair against the floor seemed deafening in the sudden hush that fell over their corner of the dining hall.

“How can you possibly sit there and tell me what’s best for us when you can’t even control yourselves?” Elara’s voice started shaky but grew louder with each word, fighting the butterflies swirling in her stomach. Her gaze locked onto Mommy and Daddy, refusing to waver.

The dining hall quieted further, heads turning as students at nearby tables paused mid-bite or mid-conversation to watch the unfolding drama. Curious eyes fixed on Elara, whispers rippling through the crowd like wildfire.

“You say you’re upperclassmen, that you know better, that you know what’s best for us, but you’re hypocritical,” Elara continued, her voice gaining strength as anger overpowered her nerves. “You want to maintain the illusion of power and overstate your own ambitions because it’s what you lacked when you were in our shoes.”

Her eyes swept across the dining hall now, taking in the sea of faces watching her every move. “Our upperclassmen proclaim they know what’s best for us. They break us down and humiliate us for one purpose and one purpose only—revenge. Revenge for what was done to them. Well, I’ve had it!”

She slammed a hand on the table for emphasis, the sound echoing in the near-silent room. “We demanded equal treatment. We demanded rights that any student should have, and we’ve been denied over and over again. So now we’re taking power into our own hands.”

This was it—the moment of no return. Elara’s heart fluttered wildly, her hands trembling despite her bold stance. Beneath the table, she felt Quinn’s hand slip into hers, giving it a firm squeeze of silent support. The contact grounded her, steadying her resolve as she steeled herself for what came next. Her breath hitched once, but she squared her shoulders, ready to expose Mommy and Daddy for who they truly were in front of everyone.

Mommy’s grin didn’t falter, though a flicker of something—unease perhaps—passed through her eyes as she watched Elara stand tall. Daddy’s expression hardened beside her, his fingers tightening around his glass as he leaned forward slightly, waiting to see just how far this would go.

Elara’s fingers tightened around the strap of her bag as she hoisted it up, her other hand slipping inside to grasp the item within. Her voice trembled with a mix of nerves and defiance as she addressed the silent dining hall. “They claim they are better than us, they know better than us, and yet they themselves are nothing more than frauds.”

Her words cut through the tension, drawing every eye in the room. She took a shaky breath, her hand still buried in the bag. “Their insistence on control stems not from genuine affection or guidance, but from mockery. They…” Her fingers closed around the soft, crinkling material, and with a dramatic flourish, she yanked it out, holding it high for all to see—a diaper, unmistakably adult-sized. “Bare witness for what they truly are!”

A collective gasp rippled through the hall, followed by stunned silence. Elara’s heart pounded as she thrust the item higher, her voice rising to a near-shout. “They put us in diapers because they themselves wear them! Our so-called caregivers are nothing more than babies themselves!”

Her last words echoed across the vast space, ringing with raw accusation. For a fleeting moment, she felt powerful, victorious, as wide, stunned eyes darted from her, to the diaper dangling in her grip, and back again. The weight of their stares fueled her adrenaline, making her stand taller, chest heaving with the thrill of exposure.

And then it began to unravel. The silence shattered as upperclassmen around the hall started snickering, their laughter biting. Some turned back to their meals, forks clinking against plates as if the spectacle was over before it even began. A few teachers passing through grinned, shaking their heads with dismissive amusement, as if… as if this was nothing new, nothing shocking at all.

Elara’s confidence faltered, her arm lowering slightly as confusion crept in. She turned back to Mommy, whose bemused expression hadn’t shifted an inch. The woman sat there, one eyebrow arched, lips curled into a smirk that sent a chill down Elara’s spine.

“You just fucked up big time, little girl,” Mommy said, her voice low and dripping with menace, cutting through the scattered chuckles like a blade.