---
"Since you think I'm lying, never mind," her mother said tightly, staring at Sarah with tired, frightened eyes. "But I promise you this—I will not let that scarecrow touch you."
Sarah sighed, already weary. "Fine, Mom. Can I sleep now?"
Her mother gave no answer. She just turned away, clutching her trembling hands together. Sarah closed her eyes, trying to block out the unease that pressed on her chest. But even in sleep, she felt it—that heavy sense of being watched.
---
The next morning, Sarah woke restless. She didn't want to go to school—not after yesterday, not with Kim avoiding her eyes, not with Rose whispering behind her back. The thought of stepping through those hallways made her stomach twist.
But then she thought of Adrian. Adrian, who always found a way to make her laugh, who pulled her back whenever she was spiraling.
He was the only reason she dressed up, brushed her hair, and forced herself out the door.
Her mother was already preparing to leave. "Heading out," she muttered.
Sarah blinked. "We're going somewhere?"
"Yes. Let's walk together."
They stepped out into the brisk morning. As they passed the field, Sarah's mark glowed faintly against her skin. She didn't notice. But her mother did. Her mother's eyes widened, her chest clenching with fear. She said nothing—because she knew her daughter wouldn't believe her.
"Sarah," she said instead, forcing calm into her voice. "How about you stay at my sister's place after school today?"
Sarah frowned. "Why? I don't want to go I just want to be on my own. Maybe another time."
Her mother replied too quickly. "Of course, maybe during the holidays. That's fine."
They went their separate ways.
---
At school, Sarah fought to ignore the whispers. Rose and Lila were too close now—laughing together, always watching her. Passing them in the hall, Sarah overheard Lila sneer, "I don't even know what Adrian sees in her."
Sarah's chest tightened. But she forced her face blank, pretended she hadn't heard. She told herself it didn't matter. Still, the thought lingered: Rose was building a new gang. And she was the target.
---
Meanwhile, at the train station, Sarah's mother moved quickly, her nerves raw. She told herself she was just being cautious, just on edge. But then—
She froze.
Across the platform, a tall man was dragging a girl by the arm. The girl's hair, her face—it was Sarah. And the man's stiff, twisted posture was horribly familiar. Like straw limbs stuffed under a coat.
Her heart stopped. The scarecrow.
Without thinking, she charged. She slammed into the man from behind, clawing at his arms, screaming, "Let go of her! Leave my daughter alone!"
The girl spun around, terrified. "Who are you?! Get away from me!"
Sarah's mother blinked. Her blood turned cold. It wasn't Sarah. Not even close.
But the station was already alive with voices.
"Kidnapper!"
"She tried to grab that girl!"
"Somebody call the police!"
Phones were lifted. Strangers shouted.
When the police arrived, her breath caught in her throat. She recognized them. The same officers she had called weeks ago, when she swore she saw a body in the basement wardrobe.
One officer muttered under his breath, "Not you again."
She shook her head wildly, her voice breaking. "No—you don't understand! I thought it was Sarah! I thought it was him, the scarecrow dragging her away—I didn't mean to—"
But no one listened. Hands yanked her back, dragging her toward the exit.
The crowd spat insults. "Liar." "Crazy woman." "Kidnapper."
The police whispered to each other. "Either charges or a mental institution."
And as Sarah's mother was pulled away, her eyes lifted one last time across the train station.
In the deep, unlit corner of the platform, far beyond the crowd, a single glowing red eye stared back at her.
The scarecrow was watching.
---