Hidden Signature

Leah’s POV

The walk home from Blood Moon College was quieter than usual.

Most days, students traveled in groups along the forest path that connected the campus to the nearby pack territories. Today, conversations around me were all about the same thing: the Leadership Competition.

Everyone had theories about how to get the shareholder president’s signature.

Some said he only signed for students recommended by professors.

Others believed you had to request a meeting through the administration office.

A few students claimed he would appear somewhere on campus without warning.

None of them sounded certain.

I kept walking, listening without joining any of the conversations.

They were all searching for someone they had never met.

Someone I had lived with for years.

The thought almost made me smile.

By the time the pack grounds came into view, the sun was already lowering behind the tall trees. I followed the stone path toward the house I shared with my uncle.

The pack members near the training grounds greeted me respectfully as I passed.

“Evening, Leah.”

I nodded politely and continued inside.

The house was quiet.

I could hear the faint sound of papers shifting somewhere deeper inside the study room. My uncle was probably still working.

I knocked lightly before opening the door.

He was seated behind his desk, reading through a stack of documents. His glasses rested low on his nose, and a lantern illuminated the room with warm light.

He looked up when he saw me.

“You’re back earlier than usual.”

“I finished my classes,” I said.

He studied my face for a moment, as if checking whether I was truly fine after yesterday. “I heard the school made an announcement today,” he said.

I leaned against the doorframe.

“So you already know.” He gave a small nod.

“The Leadership Competition.”

I walked into the room and sat in the chair across from his desk.

“There’s a new requirement this year,” I said. “I’m aware.”

I folded my hands on my lap.

“Participants need the signature of the President of the School Shareholders before they can apply.”

My uncle placed his papers down slowly.

“Yes.” I met his gaze.

“I need that signature.”

For a brief moment, silence filled the room.

Then he leaned back in his chair.

“You decided to enter the competition.”

“It seems interesting this year.”

His expression softened slightly, but there was still caution in his eyes.

“You realize that if people discover our connection”

“They won’t,” I interrupted calmly.

No one on campus knew who the shareholder president really was.

To them, he was simply a distant authority figure connected to the school’s funding.

To me, he was the man who had raised me.

My uncle watched me carefully.

“You’re certain this is what you want?”

“Yes.” Another quiet moment passed.

Then he opened one of his desk drawers and removed a document folder. From it, he pulled out a single sheet of paper.

The official application form.

At the bottom was a blank line.

Signature of the President of the School Shareholders. He picked up his pen.

“Very well,” he said.

Within seconds, he signed his name across the line.

The ink dried quickly as he handed the paper to me.

“That was easier than you expected,” he said.

I took the document and slipped it carefully into my bag.

“Much easier than it will be for everyone else.”

A faint smile crossed his face. “Keep it safe.” “I will.”

As I stood to leave, his voice stopped me again. “Leah.”

I turned back.

“Just remember,” he said quietly, “competitions like this reveal more than skill. They reveal character.” “I know.”

And with that, I left the study.

The next morning at Blood Moon College felt busier than the day before.

Students were moving around campus with unusual urgency. Some were heading toward the administration building, while others gathered near professors hoping for advice.

Everyone wanted the same thing.

The signature.

I walked through the main building hallway and noticed several groups already discussing their plans.

“They say the shareholder president might appear at Crescent Hall today.”

“Someone told me the dean might arrange meetings.”

“That means Claire probably already has an advantage.” I kept walking.

Claire.

Of course she would try to use her father’s position.

The locker room hallway was nearly empty when I arrived. I needed to change for combat training before my next class.

Inside the girls’ changing room, the space echoed with the sound of lockers closing and quiet conversation.

Claire stood near the mirror with two of her friends.

They stopped talking when I entered.

Claire’s eyes immediately moved to my bag.

“You’re entering the competition, aren’t you?” she asked suddenly.

I didn’t answer.

She laughed softly.

“That’s ambitious.”

One of her friends leaned against the lockers.

“Claire already arranged a meeting with the dean,” she said proudly.

Claire smiled.

“My father knows the shareholder board members,” she added. “Getting the signature won’t be difficult.”

I ignored them and walked toward one of the bathroom stalls to change.

Claire’s voice followed me.

“Some people should know their limits.”

I closed the door behind me and changed quickly into my training clothes.

When I stepped back out a few minutes later, the changing room was empty.

At least, it looked empty.

I walked toward the sink to wash my hands.

Then the door suddenly slammed shut.

The sound echoed sharply in the room.

Before I could react, the lock clicked from the outside.

I frowned and walked to the door.

It didn’t move.

A familiar voice came from the other side.

Claire.

“Oops,” she said lightly.

Her friends laughed.

“You should stay there for a while, Leah,” Claire continued. “Maybe it will give you time to reconsider entering the competition.”

My jaw tightened.

I pushed the door again.

Locked.

Then I heard another sound.

The rustling of fabric.

My eyes moved to the bench near the lockers. My uniform clothes were gone.

Claire’s voice drifted through the door again. “Looks like someone misplaced her clothes.”

More laughter followed. Their footsteps slowly faded down the hallway.

Silence returned to the bathroom. For a moment, I simply stood there.Claire had always been cruel.

But this was childish even for her. I looked around the room.

The small window near the ceiling was open slightly. The lock on the door wasn’t strong either.

They probably assumed I would panic.

Instead, I exhaled slowly.

Then I stepped onto the sink counter and pushed the window open wider.

Cool morning air rushed inside.

The drop outside wasn’t far. Within seconds, I climbed through the window and landed quietly behind the building.

Students were walking across the courtyard, unaware of what had just happened inside the locker room.

I brushed the dust from my training clothes and adjusted my bag.

The signed application form was still safely inside. Claire might have thought she delayed me.

She hadn’t.

I walked calmly toward the administration building.

Across the courtyard, I noticed Claire and her friends again.

They were talking with Derek near the staircase.

Claire looked confident, explaining something while Derek listened.

Probably about her plan to get the signature.

For a brief moment, Derek’s gaze shifted across the courtyard. His eyes landed on me.

Claire followed his line of sight.

The moment she saw me standing there calm, unbothered, her smile disappeared.

She clearly hadn’t expected me to get out so quickly.

I held her gaze for a second.

Then I simply turned and continued walking.

Inside my bag, the application form remained safe. Already signed.