Chapter Three: Back to School, But Not the Same Girl
The gates of Eastbrook High School looked exactly as Isabelle had seen in the photo albums—wrought-iron arches, ivy creeping along the sides, and a massive oak tree standing proudly by the main path.
But to her, it felt like walking into a movie set.
She tightened her grip on the strap of her backpack, her heart hammering in her chest. The memories of her past life—a boring office job, late-night takeout, scrolling through social media just to feel connected—clashed painfully with the sight of teenagers laughing, running, and living without worry.
A group of girls passed by her, chatting animatedly about an upcoming dance.
She caught bits and pieces:
"...I can't believe Jake actually asked her..."
"...we should totally get matching dresses..."
It was all so... normal. So far from the chaos she had come from.
"Belle!" A voice called from across the courtyard.
A tall, athletic boy jogged toward her, his expression warm and familiar. Isabelle blinked. Who was this?
Before she could react, he slung an arm around her shoulder with casual ease.
"Did you seriously ghost me all weekend? What happened to our history project?"
"Uh…" Isabelle fumbled for words.
He raised an eyebrow. "You okay? You look... weird."
She forced a smile. "Just tired. Rough weekend."
He gave a short laugh. "Fair. Come on, we've got Mrs. Kent first period. If we're late again, she'll lock us out."
As they walked together, Isabelle tried to keep her expression calm, her mind racing.
Who was this boy? A friend? A crush? A brother?
She needed to figure out the relationships around her—and fast.
Inside the classroom, desks were arranged in a loose U-shape. Isabelle slipped into a seat near the window, hoping no one would notice how stiff and out of place she felt.
But they did.
She caught the way a girl across the room whispered to another, eyes flicking toward her.
"Did Belle dye her hair darker?"
"She's acting weird lately…"
Isabelle stared down at her textbook, her fingers trembling slightly.
A tap on her shoulder broke her focus. A new voice—gentle, low.
"Hey. I'm Alex. You dropped this."
She looked up into a pair of grey-green eyes. The boy handed her a pen she hadn't realized she'd dropped.
"Thanks," she murmured.
Alex gave her a curious look, then returned to his desk.
It was only a moment. But it felt like the first thread tying her to this new world.