*(Dora's POV – One Year Earlier, Reverse Chronology)*
The wind howled in her ears, louder than their laughter.
Dora Navarro stood at the edge of the Northford High roof, her fingers numb where they gripped the rusted railing. Below, the pavement gleamed under the streetlights—wet from an earlier rain, waiting.
*"Jump already, freak!"*
Marla's voice, sharp as broken glass.
Dora didn't turn. She already knew what she'd see: Marla's perfect sneer, Tyler's phone raised to film, Rhea hiding behind them like a ghost of the friend she used to be.
And Callum—*Callum, who promised—*
But he wasn't here.
A gust of wind tugged at her sweater. The ledger's weight burned in her pocket, its pages whispering names she couldn't unsee.
*Maybe it's better this way.*
She closed her eyes.
And let go.
---
**PRESENT DAY – ELLE'S POV**
Elle woke with a gasp, her sheets tangled around her legs.
The dream—*no, not a dream*—clung to her like frost. She could still feel the railing under her palms, the sickening lurch of empty air.
*Dora's death.*
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. A text from Nina:
**>> First day trauma debrief? I'll bring coffee. <<**
Elle rubbed her temples. The clock read 6:17 AM. Too early. Too quiet.
Except—
A faint *tap-tap-tap* at her window.
She turned slowly.
There, smudged against the glass, was a pale handprint.
And through the fog, two gray eyes stared back.
-