Why Hyde Became Forge

The first time I understood how Hyde really worked, I was sitting across from my best friend in the dorm’s common room. The overhead lights buzzed, too bright, making the shadows under her eyes stand out. She had been gone for hours, pulled into an interrogation I knew little about. Now she sat hunched forward, hands tangled in the drawstrings of her sweatshirt, twisting and twisting until the cord was frayed.

She wouldn’t meet my eyes. I could hear the hum of the vending machine, the muffled footsteps of staff pacing the hallway just beyond the door. Finally, in a voice that cracked halfway through, she told me she had turned me in. Not because she wanted to, but because they had cornered her, threatened harsher punishment if she stayed silent, promised her a way out if she confessed and gave up someone else.

It was like watching the air leave her body as she said it, her shoulders collapsing under a weight neither of us could carry. In that moment, I learned what Hyde thrived on: fear that seeped into every friendship, pressure that bent loyalty until it snapped, and betrayal recast as “character building.” Trust was dangerous. Silence was punished. And the walls were always listening.

When I began writing The Pace of Nature, I thought I would keep the school’s real name: Hyde. After all, it was where the story unfolded for me. But as the pages built up, Hyde transformed into Forge Academy.

The change was partly necessary, due to legal caution, privacy, the truth that no single account can ever capture the whole story. But it was also intentional. By renaming the school, I gave myself room to blend fiction with lived experience. Characters could be merged, events reshaped, and the narrative could hold not just my memories, but echoes of many. Forge became the crucible where it all burns down and takes shape again.

It’s been a whirlwind diving back into The Pace of Nature these past six weeks. I had put the novel on hold after my second son was born, due to being stretched too thin. And honestly, these past weeks have felt the same: pulled in every direction, between running a business, raising my boys, and now pouring myself back into getting this book ready for publication.

The days start at 5:00 a.m. and often end at midnight, every free minute crammed with edits, proposal drafts, blog posts, research. It’s exhausting. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. Because now is the time for my story to be heard.

I want to expose Hyde’s harmful “Brother’s Keeper” policy and their warped version of discipline that caused so much pain. Since the lawsuit was filed, countless people have reached out with their own stories.

Their voices are the fuel that keep me moving forward.

The more we speak, the more we refuse to be silenced, the more change can finally take root. We survived their system. Now we’re dismantling it. One story at a time.