The next morning, I woke up feeling more refreshed than I had in days. I took a long shower, letting the warm water wash away the weight of the previous night. After changing into something cozy, I made my way downstairs.
The scent of maple syrup and freshly brewed tea wafted through the house.
"Good morning, Mum," I said cheerfully, slipping into a seat at the kitchen table.
"Well, someone's in a surprisingly good mood today," she replied with a raised brow, smiling as she placed a plate of pancakes and a steaming mug of tea in front of me.... my favorite.
We sat across from each other, eating and chatting about how things had changed in Oxville. The neighborhood had gotten quieter, the local shops had new owners, and a few more luxury homes had sprouted like weeds along the main road.
Then, the doorbell rang.
I looked at her. "Are you expecting anyone?"
She shook her head and stood. "Not really."
When she opened the door, I heard familiar footsteps, fast and deliberate.
Then...
"Terra," Mira said, arms crossed, weight shifted to one hip. Her dark eyeliner was winged to perfection, her braid slung casually over one shoulder, and the chain around her neck glinted. "You're back. And you didn't think to let me know? I had to hear it from your mum!"
I blinked, caught off guard. "Hey, Mira… you look cool."
There was a long pause as we stared at each other, the tension hanging like a storm cloud. Then suddenly, she broke into a smile and threw her arms around me.
"Ha! You idiot, I've missed you so much!"
I laughed and hugged her back. "I missed you too."
After lunch, we went for a walk.
The sun had settled behind a veil of soft clouds, casting a silvery hue over Oxville's streets. Mira was practically buzzing with excitement, determined to show me everything that had changed while I was gone.
"Look at this mural," she said, pulling me toward a wall near the park. It was a sweeping, vibrant piece, bright oranges and blues featuring a girl floating above a city skyline, arms outstretched like she could fly. "They finished it last year. Local artists. Isn't it sick?"
I nodded, genuinely impressed. "Oxville got a glow-up."
We strolled past the redesigned plaza, where sleek benches curved around freshly planted trees. Mira pointed out a new smoothie bar on the corner and we got two overpriced cups filled with coconut, kale, and other green things that probably weren't meant to taste good together.
We talked the entire time. Mira filled me in on Oxville's drama, the school fights, the teacher who got fired for "undisclosed reasons," her newfound obsession with gouache painting. I told her a version of my story too. A lighter one. She didn't need the full darkness.
As our walk persist, we got near the quiet street corners of Oxville high and Mira insisted that she showed me around, what changed but I refused to go in.
Mira raised an eyebrow, "You seriously won't even walk near the school?"
I stopped at the intersection, staring at the faint silhouette of Oxville High down the block. The building stood like a memory carved in stone.
"I don't think I'm ready," I said, my voice tightening around the words.
But Mira was relentless.
"Oh come on, it's the weekend! No one's there! Think of it as… exposure therapy." She grinned and added dramatically, "For your soul."
I tried to protest, but she kept pleading. After much thought and constant begging, i agreed.
The moment we stepped onto school grounds, the silence hit me like a punch. The basketball court. The theater wing. The art block. My past was painted across every brick.
Then it happened. The scent of cherry lip balm. The echo of synchronized footsteps. Laughter like glass breaking.
I saw us, me, Andrea, Williams, Cheo and Destiny.... sweeping through the hallways like we owned the school. Andrea in her designer heels, Destiny snapping photos, Williams flirting shamelessly, Cheo cracking jokes at everyone else's expense. And me… in the center of it all. Laughing. Leading. Watching as they tore people apart for fun and doing nothing to stop it.
Then Mira. Quiet, kind Mira. Her locker covered in sticky notes that said "Freak" and "Loser." Her sketchbook ripped and thrown in the trash. The day she cried in the bathroom and I walked past without a word. I still hear the slam of that stall door in my dreams.
Then Mira. Quiet, kind Mira. Her locker covered in sticky notes that said "Freak" and "Loser." Her sketchbook ripped and thrown in the trash. The day she cried in the bathroom and I walked past without a word. I still hear the slam of that stall door in my dreams.
"Terra?" Mira's voice cut through the fog.
I turned to her, trying to hide how pale I felt. "Sorry. Just… remembering."
We continued the walk in silence. The school had changed. New paint, some modern benches, a renovated science block. But beneath it all, the ghosts still lingered.
It was the weekend, so the place was nearly deserted. But the silence only made the ghosts louder.
"See? Not so bad," Mira said, looping her arm through mine as we wandered past the gym.
Then we saw them.
Andrea. Williams. Destiny. Cheo.
My former inner circle. My so-called "besties."
They stood in a huddle near the courtyard fountain, looking exactly as I remembered them, smirking, flawless, cruel. Their eyes locked on me the second I passed by.
"Well, look who decided to crawl back," Cheo sneered.
"Did you get expelled this time?" Andrea added with a mocking laugh.
Destiny crossed her arms. "Still hanging out with this loser?" she asked, glancing at Mira.
Mira stepped backward, eyes down. She was still the timid girl I remembered
Seeing how quiet she grew I stepped up and snapped at them"Yeah. Because she didn't abandon me when I needed her the most." then I turned to her and said calmly "Come on, Mira. Let's go," we walked away without looking back.
Their laughter died in the wind.
Later that evening, Mira and I sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor, surrounded by open photo albums, half-eaten snacks, and the comforting clutter of her life. Paintbrushes poked out of jars on her desk. A soft playlist played in the background, all lo-fi beats and aching vocals.
I told her everything.
Or most of it.
I left out the vampires, the werewolves, the supernatural politics tangled around Caveroop's hallways. But I told her about Jesse. About the kiss. The betrayal. The video. The whispers. The suspension.
She listened without interrupting. No judgment, no pity—just quiet presence.
When I finished, her brows were drawn, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Wow," she whispered. "You've really been through it."
I sank back against her bed, feeling the exhaustion settle into my bones. "Yeah," I breathed. "Yeah, I have."
She passed me a cold soda and bumped her shoulder against mine.
"Next time," she said softly, "you don't wait this long to call me. Got it?"
I smiled, small but real. "Got it."
...
Weeks passed. I started to find a rhythm again. Oxville began to feel like less of a cage and more of a soft landing.
Then came the annual Oxville Award Ceremony, hosted by the mayor. Mira and I dressed up for the event, her in a deep blue gown, me in something silver and sleek. For a few hours, we danced, laughed, and enjoyed being just two teenage girls without burdens.
When the main ceremony began, the plaza had transformed into something almost magical.
Twinkling string lights stretched from tree to tree, casting a warm glow over the cobblestones. Paper lanterns bobbed in the evening breeze, and soft music floated from a nearby stage where a jazz trio played beneath a canopy of gold and burgundy ribbons. Families gathered near the fountain, kids darted between benches with face paint and candy, and the scent of roasted almonds and popcorn filled the air.
Mira tugged at my sleeve, eyes gleaming with excitement. "Okay, there's someone you have to meet."
Before I could ask, she was already dragging me toward a group clustered near the front steps of the town hall. There, standing with casual confidence and holding a glass of sparkling cider, was a guy who looked like he belonged in the final scene of a teen rom-com.
Tall, with tousled chestnut hair and a tan suit that somehow didn't look try-hard. His smile was effortless, like he knew how to light up a room without even trying.
"Liam," Mira said, nudging me forward. "This is my best friend, Terra. She's finally back."
He turned to me, eyes a striking shade of green, and offered a hand with the kind of charm that wasn't rehearsed.
"Terra," he said, saying my name like it mattered. "Welcome home."
I shook his hand, trying not to look as caught off guard as I felt. His grip was warm, steady. His smile didn't falter.
"You're the mayor's son?" I asked, glancing toward the man giving a speech near the stage.
Liam shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "Technically, yeah. But don't hold it against me. I promise I'm not running for office anytime soon."
Mira rolled her eyes. "He volunteers at the library and teaches kids how to code on weekends. Don't let the perfect hair fool you, he's sickeningly decent."
Liam laughed.
There was something about him that unsettled me, in a good way. Like he didn't fit into any box I'd been used to lately.
I smiled politely, my walls still half up. "Nice to meet you, Liam."
"Likewise," he said.
As the crowd began to cheer for the mayor's speech, Mira pulled me to stand between them. And for the first time in what felt like ages, I didn't feel like I was shrinking in someone else's spotlight.
But that didn't last long, in the middle of the big speech, I saw her, the woman from the woods. Pale skin. Dark eyes. Dressed in the same flowing black robe.
She was standing in the middle of the crowd, unmoving, her eyes locked on mine.
I froze.
She smiled and waved like she was enjoying the expression she got out of me.
"Hey, are you okay?" Liam asked, noticing the way I'd gone stiff.
I turned to him, then looked back but she was gone. No... it couldn't be. How had she followed me here?
"Yeah I'm fine" I repiled with a faint smile.
When the speech was over, we went back to our dancing and gisting all night long.
The next day, I packed my things. The weight in my chest hadn't lifted, but my time in Oxville was up. My suspension had officially ended and It was time to go back.
Mira hovered near the door as I zipped my bag shut. Her eyes flicked from my hands to my face, like she was searching for something to say that wouldn't sound like goodbye.
"I'll text you," I said, trying to keep it light.
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me, tight, a little too tight. "You better. Or I'll come find you myself."
I smiled into her shoulder. "Promise."
I hugged my mum next. She didn't say much, just stroked my hair like she used to when I was little, her lips brushed my forehead then I boarded the bus.
When I arrived at Caveroop High, it was late. The sky was low and gray, like a lid pressing down on the world. The wind carried a bite that didn't match the season.
I stood outside the gates for a moment, staring at the familiar silhouette of the school. Its tall windows and dark stone walls felt more like a fortress than a place of learning. Every step closer made my skin prickle.
I couldn't bring myself to return to the hostel not after what I saw last night, so instead, I made my way to the clinic. Maybe, Raymond would help make senseof it all.
The door of the clinic creaked as I pushed it open, that same soft antiseptic smell clung to the air. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, flickering once before settling.
I stepped inside, Raymond was there. He sat hunched over a cluttered desk, a steaming mug forgotten at his elbow. Papers were scattered everywhere, charts, scribbled notes, a few open books with symbols I didn't recognize.
His eyes were red-rimmed, like he hadn't slept in days.
When he saw me, he stood so fast his chair scraped loudly across the floor.
"Terra," he said, breath catching in his throat. "You're back."
His voice sounded... different. Less clinical. Almost relieved.
I nodded, stepping in slowly, about to speak, ready to tell him everything I'd seen and felt. But then something shifted in the room, a flicker in the corner.
Two figures. Huddled near the exam bed, whispering low, frantic words I couldn't quite make out.
I turned sharply, there were two girls. Their outlines shimmered faintly, like heat waves over pavement. Pale and unmoving. Their eyes seemed too hollow for someone living.
My breath caught, my blood ran cold. I knew them.
"Resa? Alexa?" My voice cracked, trembling. "You're... alive?"
They turned to me, slow, eerie, and impossibly silent. Their eyes glowed faintly, like reflected moonlight.
Raymond rushed forward and grabbed my shoulders, his grip firm but shaking.
"You can see them?" he asked, almost in awe.
That's when it hit me, they weren't alive and I could see them.
Something cold unfurled inside me. A chill that crept beneath my skin and stayed there.
I stared into Alexa's eyes, watched her lips move soundlessly, her translucent hand reaching out,
"What's happening to me?" I whispered.