Chapter 8- Rhys Vale Doesn’t Exist

The deeper you dig at Daxton, the more you realize how much has already been buried.

Sonia stared at the name circled in red ink:

Rhys Vale

Underneath, just one word:

Heir.

She’d read that page at least seven times now. It hadn’t changed. But her heart did something strange every time her eyes passed over it.

She’d never heard that name before.

Not in any of their family history classes. Not in the Vale household, where names and titles were legacy and everything else was decoration. Her father would’ve mentioned a cousin. Her mother would've made it a brag.

But this?

This felt like a ghost that was deliberately erased.

She pulled out her laptop and typed it in. Rhys Vale

There was no results.

Search suggestions: Reese Vane, Rios Value, R. Vale.

Nothing useful. No social records. No articles. No school files.

For a Vale, that was unnatural.

Because when you’re born into billions, you don’t get to be invisible.

Unless someone made you that way.

---

She didn’t sleep that night.

She stayed at her desk with her brother’s notebook, her screen flickering as she dug into blacklisted alumni databases, obscure Daxton archives, and quietly accessed student histories through Silas’s old credentials. He’d had a backdoor login for everything, from grade sheets to faculty dossiers.

Midnight turned into 3 a.m. before she found it.

It was a partial record, encrypted and labeled: “Classified—Emergency Admission: RV-01/14-A”

The year matched. The initials matched. But the file had been scrubbed.

Only one line remained:

“Admitted on Headmaster override. Ineligible for student ranking.”

“Observation required.”

No photo. No parent name. No exit record. No dorm assigned.

Sonia stared at the screen, jaw tight.

Rhys Vale had been here.

At Daxton.

But no one ever spoke of him.

And that kind of silence didn’t come naturally. It was engineered.

---

Later that morning, Sonia stepped into the archive wing again.

Same heavy air.

Same camera blind spots.

But this time, she wasn’t following anyone.

She was hunting.

She slipped into the old file vault, heart pounding. The place smelled like wax, old leather, and secrets. She moved shelf to shelf, eyes scanning until she found the admission logs from five years ago.

There were two tabs.

One for Silas Vale.

One for Rhys Vale.

She pulled the Rhys file from the cabinet.

It was thin. Too thin.

Inside was a single black-and-white student photo, slightly torn at the corner.

She pulled it into the light.

And froze.

The boy in the photo looked just like Silas.

Same sharp cheekbones. Same eyes. But rougher. Darker. Like someone had raised Silas in a room full of locked doors and no mirrors.

Her hands shook.

Twins?

No. She would’ve known.

Wouldn’t she?

---

“Lost something?” a voice behind her said.

Sonia spun around.

Eric.

Again.

This time, he looked more curious than accusatory. He folded his arms, leaned against the doorframe.

"Why are you always poking around this place?” he asked.

“Why are you always finding me here?”

He tilted his head. “Because you don’t know how to cover your tracks.”

Sonia hesitated, then held up the photo. “Do you know this guy?”

Eric took one glance and his whole body stiffened.

He didn’t speak at first.

"Where did you find that?” he asked.

“Doesn’t matter.”

"It does.”

She stepped closer. “His name was Rhys Vale. Who was he?”

Eric didn’t blink.

"He wasn’t supposed to exist.”

---

They ended up on the bleachers behind Daxton’s west quad, far from cameras, students, and noise.

Eric held the photo between his fingers, like it might burn.

“He came here for one term. Just one,” Eric said slowly. “Nobody knew where he came from. He barely spoke. But there were... stories.”

“Like what?”

“That he was dangerous. That the faculty kept tabs on him like he was a prisoner, not a student.”

“And?” Sonia asked.

"And then one day, he was gone. Just like that. File wiped. Dorm cleaned. Everyone told to shut up. If you asked questions...detention. Reassignment. Silence.”

“Why?”

Eric met her eyes. “Because I think he saw something. Something they didn’t want him to talk about.”

Sonia’s chest tightened.

"So he was silenced.”

Eric nodded.

“And now you’ve found him.”

---

That night, Sonia snuck back into the archive one last time.

She took the photo. Taped it to the inside cover of Silas’s notebook.

Then she turned the page.

And found something she hadn’t noticed before.

A code scribbled in the margins.

Numbers.

Coordinates.

A location.

Not inside Daxton.

But beneath it.

She traced the numbers with her finger, whispering to herself—

“What were you trying to show me, Silas?”