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Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the auditorium windows, casting long shadows over the polished stage. The hum of anticipation was palpable as the audience settled in for the final debate. Teachers, students, and a few parents watched from the rows of polished seats, waiting for the final round to begin.

I sat at the debate table, fingers brushing the edges of my index cards, though I hardly needed them. My mind was clear, and focused, just like always. I've done this a hundred times. I had debated countless times, winning almost every competition. I knew what to do. The sunlight was bright, the stakes high, but none of that fazed me. I wasn't here for them, the judges, the audience, my opponent. I was here for her. Make her proud.

Across the stage, my opponent, a tall boy from a rival academy named Carter grinned confidently. He hadn't beaten me yet but it looked like he was already celebrating victory. Typical. But I had no intention of losing. Not ever.

"Miss Hart," the moderator announced, snapping me back to focus, "you have the final rebuttal."

I nodded, my expression calm, and collected. I rose from my seat, smoothing down my skirt as I did. I glanced at the panel of judges, then let my gaze sweep across the audience. Somewhere in the crowd, there were parents cheering on their children, but mine wasn't among them. No familiar faces. Of course, she isn't here. She never is. But it's fine. I'll bring the medal home, and show her I won. Maybe this time... maybe this will be the one that finally makes her proud.

But before I could speak, Carter interrupted with a grin. "Before you start, I just want to say whether zoos exist or not, I think we can all agree meat is best served medium-rare, am I right?"

The audience chuckled, and I caught a few eye rolls from the judges. His little joke was meant to lighten the mood, but all I could think about was how I would love to chop his annoying mouth into tiny little pieces just like how little respect he had for this topic, something that actually mattered.

I didn't rise to the bait. This wasn't about humor. This was about proving to my mother that I could win, that I was worthy. I took a deep breath and began.

"My opponent," I said, letting the words hang for a moment, "claims that zoos are necessary for education, research, and conservation. But let's be honest, what are zoos really? They are prisons. And those animals? They're prisoners. Except unlike criminals, they didn't do anything wrong. They were simply born into a world that thinks it's okay to cage them for entertainment."

I let the silence hang for a second before pacing slowly across the stage. Every step was calculated, every word practiced. Perfect, like always.

"Let's not forget that keeping animals behind bars is unnatural. These creatures are meant to roam freely in their natural habitats, not be confined to small enclosures that mimic those environments. My opponent wants you to believe that zoos are beneficial to these animals, but the truth is, zoos exist for human amusement."

Carter chuckled lightly behind me. "You make it sound so tragic, Hart, but people need zoos. Kids need to see real animals. How else are they supposed to learn about them? Google pictures?"

A few snickers rippled through the audience, and Carter puffed his chest slightly as if he'd already won the round with a joke. He stepped forward for his rebuttal, smirking as he adjusted his blazer.

"Thank you, Desiree, for your passionate perspective, but I believe you're overlooking a lot of nuance here. First off, while the idea of animals being 'prisoners' in zoos may sound tragic, the reality is far more complex."

Carter paced the stage, speaking smoothly.

"Let's be real here. Zoos aren't just places where people come to gawk at animals. They're centers for research, education, and conservation." He paused, sweeping his gaze over the crowd. "Without zoos, many endangered species wouldn't even be alive right now."

A murmur of disagreement rippled through the audience, but he pushed on. "Pandas, for example, can't just be released into the wild and expected to survive. Take species like the black-footed ferret or the California condor, both would be extinct without the intervention of zoos. These species are bred in captivity with the explicit goal of reintroduction into the wild."

He leaned forward, voice steady, though a spark of passion was visible in his eyes. "Zoos provide controlled environments where researchers can monitor these animals, learn from them, and find ways to save them. In fact, some zoos have advanced veterinary care that helps rehabilitate injured wildlife that would never survive in the wild. These facilities are at the forefront of conservation efforts."

A brief silence fell, and he smirked, letting his words sink in. "You can't just lump all zoos together and ignore the efforts made to preserve endangered species. They create a bridge between humans and wildlife, educating people about animals they might never have a chance to see otherwise. And yes, animals would rather be in the wild, but guess what? Life isn't perfect. And zoos? They're a necessity."

He glanced at the audience, clearly playing to their sympathies. "I mean, have you seen some of the conditions out there in the wild? Habitat destruction, poaching, most animals wouldn't make it a week without the safety zoos provide. So yeah, maybe they're confined, but it's for their own good. Zoos protect species that wouldn't survive in the wild, and let's face it, kids love them. You can't underestimate how valuable it is for children to experience seeing a lion or a tiger up close."

The audience murmured in agreement. Carter had momentum now. He let his words hang in the air, flashing me a smug grin as if he had sealed the win. He certainly had given the judges something to think about. But he had also given me just enough to tear his argument apart.

He continued, "In fact, research shows that people who visit zoos are more likely to donate to conservation efforts or make eco-friendly choices in their daily lives. Zoos inspire action! And while, yes, some animals might not be in ideal conditions, we can't ignore the role zoos play in keeping the connection between humans and animals alive."

I clenched my fists slightly. His dismissal of the animals' suffering and his casual jokes enraged me. I wouldn't show it, especially to that cocky boy but I am itching to lash out and just quickly murder him with the microphone. Stay calm. Stay poised. My mother wouldn't tolerate an emotional outburst.

If I attacked him too aggressively, I'd come off as harsh. But if I stayed too soft, his dismissiveness would overshadow my points. I took a breath, letting his casual cruelty settle in the room before I made my move.

"Mr. Carter," I began again, voice calm, measured. "You've mentioned how zoos educate and entertain, but let's not kid ourselves. You're reducing living beings to exhibits. You're saying their suffering is acceptable as long as children get to see a lion up close for five minutes. Do we really want to teach the next generation that it's okay to exploit animals for our own benefit?"

The audience quieted. No more laughter. No more jokes.

"Education?" I continued, stepping toward the edge of the stage, "How much can a child truly learn by watching a caged lion pacing in a cramped enclosure, stressed from a lack of space and stimulation? Studies show that the behavior of zoo animals is far from natural. Captivity distorts their instincts, lions, who would normally roam vast territories, are reduced to repetitive, neurotic actions. Is this the kind of education we want to offer, an education that's based on the suffering of others?"

The judges nodded slightly, scribbling on their notepads. I could feel the shift in the room. The tide was turning in my favor.

"As for conservation," I continued, "zoos like to boast about the role they play in saving endangered species. Yet, the truth is far less impressive. According to the World Wildlife Fund, less than 10% of the species in zoos are part of any genuine conservation effort. Most of the animals you see are not endangered at all, they're simply there because they attract visitors. Zoos breed animals for captivity, not for release into the wild, because the vast majority of captive-bred animals can never be reintroduced. They lack the survival skills they'd need in their natural environment."

I turned slightly, addressing Carter directly this time. "You mentioned that zoos protect species that wouldn't survive in the wild. That's true, but that's because we've destroyed the wild through deforestation, urbanization, and climate change. Zoos aren't the solution to these problems; they're a symptom. Instead of pouring millions into keeping these animals caged, we should be focusing on restoring their habitats, on fighting the root causes of endangerment, so these animals never need to be 'saved' in the first place."

I let that sink in before delivering my final point. "And lastly, if we're really concerned about education, there are alternatives. Virtual reality and documentary films now offer immersive experiences where people can see animals in their natural environments, without the cruelty. These forms of education foster empathy, without exploitation."

I stepped back from the podium, allowing the silence to stretch for a moment. "The question isn't whether animals can survive in captivity. The question is whether we, as a society, should keep them there at all. They deserve freedom just as much as we do. If we really want to save these animals, we need to change the way we think about them."

I turned to face Carter directly. "Because animals don't exist for our entertainment, no matter how much you enjoy your medium-rare steak."

The buzzer went off. Debate over.

Applause filled the room as I returned to my seat. But I didn't bask in it. I never did. The accolades, the clapping, the whispers of admiration, they were all just background noise. Another win. Another gold. But it wasn't enough until I heard it from her.

๋࣭ °࣪ ִ⭑․𓃠⭒˚.• ݁

The car ride home was quiet except for the soft hum of the engine. The sunset painted the sky in hues of pink and orange. I sat in the backseat, staring out the tinted windows as we drove through the streets. My fingers instinctively brushed over the gold medal sitting heavily in my lap, though it brought no sense of accomplishment. The debate had gone well, better than well, but that didn't matter. None of it mattered unless she noticed. I was certain I had won. But what good was victory if there was no one to share it with?

Mother never comes to any of my competitions. Too many meetings, too much to oversee at Dream Catcher Studios. I've learned not to expect her at these events. I've won so many times before, but every single achievement feels like a stepping stone to something higher, something that will finally make her proud. Hasn't anything I've done so far been enough?

I remember my graduation from middle school, standing at the podium as valedictorian. I had worked so hard for that speech, pouring hours into rehearsing every line. My teachers were proud, my classmates admired me, and the applause after my speech felt like it would never end.

But when I handed her the award after, she barely glanced at it.

"You can do better," she said with a dismissive wave, already asking her secretary about the next meeting on her schedule. No warmth. No pride. Just a casual acknowledgment and then nothing. Better? What more could I do?

I pushed those memories away, tightening my grip on the medal in my hand. This time, it'll be different.

It wasn't long before we passed a group of boys on the corner, brawling like savages. Their punches were wild, their faces bruised, their clothes torn. I could tell they were thugs from a glance, kids who would never amount to anything. How pathetic.

Hidden behind the safety of the windows, I didn't have to pretend. My lip curled in disgust as I watched them flailing about in the dirt. Useless. Wasting their lives. They probably don't even bother going to school.

I thought about my own school. How hard I worked, how much I pushed myself to excel, to be the best at everything. And then there were kids like these, throwing their futures away for nothing. They'll end up rotting in some slum or prison. They'll never even get close to where I am.

Three of them were kicking someone on the ground, laughter and taunts ringing out. My driver, an older man with salt-and-pepper hair, slowed the car, glancing at the boys.

"Shall I stop, Miss Hart?" he asked, his voice even.

I stared at the scene. More than five boys on the ground weren't moving. A few years ago, I might have felt a twinge of concern. But now? They were just like savages, fighting for no reason, causing harm because they could.

"No," I said coldly. "They're just savages. They'll tire themselves out."

The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his brow furrowed, but he didn't press. "Very well, Miss Hart."

I could have stopped. I could have made Mr. Moso intervene, and made a difference considering he's a close-quarters combat expert, but what was the point? Boys like that were a waste of time and energy. My focus was elsewhere, always on the same thing, pleasing her. That was all that mattered. There was no space for pity or distractions.

I glanced down at the book in my hand, flipping it open and turning the page. The car drove on, leaving that awful scene behind, and I settled back into the quiet. I could feel the cool metal of the medal pressing against my palm. It's all for her. This will make her proud.

We pulled into the estate. The gates opened slowly, revealing the grand mansion where she was. Home. I got out, medal in hand, and made my way up the marble steps. Everything here was immaculate, perfect just like it had to be.

The house was cold as I stepped inside. Staff moved quietly in the background, barely registering my presence. I walked toward her office, each step measured, and rehearsed.

Don't get too excited. Keep calm. Smile. You know the drill. I've practiced this enough times. I just need her to see the medal, to say something. To finally acknowledge that I've done well.

The smell of polished wood and leather greeted me as I knocked on the door. There she was, sitting at her desk, papers scattered in front of her. Her sharp, precise movements, her perfectly styled hair, and the way her eyes scanned each document with cold efficiency, it was like watching a general commanding an army. Her phone pressed to her ear as she talked business. She didn't look up when I entered. I held out the medal, feeling a flicker of hope rise in my chest.

"Mother," I called, stepping forward once she ended her call. "I won. First place."

She glanced briefly at the gold medal, her eyes barely flickering with interest. "Good. Now go upstairs and change. We have an important meeting in an hour."

The words stung, but I didn't let it show. I've perfected the art of keeping a smile on my face, even when my heart sinks. It's okay. I'll do better next time. I will make her proud.

"Yes, Mother," I replied, as steady as ever.

She turned back to her work, already forgetting I was even there. I stood there for a second longer, clutching the medal that now felt heavier than before.

I turned and walked out, the gold medal cool against my skin. It wasn't enough for her. It never was. But it just means I have to work harder. Next time, I'll win something bigger. Next time, she'll have to notice.

I headed up the stairs to get ready for dinner. Next time... it'll be enough. 

☀༉‧

Hey lovables! 💖 The first chapter is finally here—yay!

This isn't my first story, but it's the first one I'm sharing after days of second-guessing. So, be gentle with me, okay? ✨

I truly hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I loved writing it! 💫 If you have any thoughts, I'd love to hear them in the comments. And if you're enjoying the story, don't forget to hit that vote button!

To all the silent readers out there (I was one too for ages!), I'm just thrilled to have you here. Dive in and enjoy every twist and turn that comes your way!

Thanks for giving this book a shot—I hope you're loving it so far!

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