The detention room was quieter than usual—no ticking clock, no humming lights, just the soft scratch of Kia's pen as she doodled spirals across her notebook. Across from her, Ashwin lounged on the bench like it was a therapy couch, tossing a paper plane between his fingers.
"Nice of you to join me in jail," Kia said dryly, not looking up.
Ashwin smirked. "I figured you'd miss me too much if I didn't."
"Please. I've had more stimulating conversations with the lab skeleton."
He laughed—low and easy—and that was the problem. Kia had started noticing things: like the way his eyes crinkled when he was genuinely amused, or how he always remembered the exact lyrics to random songs she hummed under her breath. She hated that she noticed. Even worse? She didn't want to stop.
Mr. Luthra, the sleepy physics teacher assigned to supervise, was already dozing behind a pile of past years' question papers. Kia glanced over and lowered her voice.
"You've been acting weird since Monday," she said. "And don't say it's your charm. I mean actually weird."
Ashwin hesitated, his expression faltering just a second before he masked it with another smirk. "Weird how?"
"You're hiding something."
Silence.
Then, Ashwin exhaled slowly and leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "I didn't think you'd care."
"I don't," Kia said too quickly.
"Liar."
She rolled her eyes. "Fine. I care enough to be nosy. Now spill."
Ashwin's fingers tightened around the paper plane. "Okay, so you know those weird notes you've been getting?"
Kia's heart skipped. "What about them?"
"I've been getting them too. Since last month."
Her breath caught. "Wait… what?"
Ashwin nodded, then reached into his bag and pulled out a folded slip of paper. He slid it across the table to her.
Kia opened it.
"The girl with half a mark has more to uncover than just secrets."
Same handwriting. Same style.
Her spine tingled. "Why didn't you say anything before?"
"Because I thought it was some prank. Or a mistake. But then you started acting like something was off. The chem lab explosion. The notebook in your locker. That weird poem on your mirror?"
Kia stared at him. "You know about the mirror?"
"I saw it when I passed by the washroom that day. I didn't say anything because… I thought you'd think I was stalking you or something."
"Weren't you?"
He winked. "Only a little."
She smacked his arm with the notebook. "Not funny."
He turned serious again. "Kia, what if someone's watching us? What if this is bigger than just school gossip?"
Before Kia could reply, the door creaked open. Both of them jolted. But it wasn't a teacher—it was Zara, her eyes wide and breath short.
"You guys need to see this," she whispered, holding up her phone. "Now."
Five minutes later, they huddled in the corner of the empty art room. Zara showed them the video she'd received anonymously.
It was grainy CCTV footage.
Of Kia's locker.
Of someone—hooded, face hidden—slipping a note inside it.
Timestamped: Two days ago.
Kia stared at the screen, cold dread crawling up her spine. "Who sent you this?"
Zara shook her head. "No clue. It came from a hidden number. And there's more."
She swiped to the next image. A close-up of the figure's hand.
And on the wrist?
A faded ink mark. Half a circle. Almost like… half a moon.
Kia blinked. "What the—?"
Ashwin leaned in. "Half mark."
Exactly like hers.
Back in her room that night, Kia sat cross-legged on her bed, a dozen thoughts spiraling in her head like storm clouds.
The notes. The mirror messages. The CCTV footage.
Ashwin's halfmark theory.
And now… another person with the same symbol?
What if it wasn't just a mark?
What if it was… a sign?
She touched her wrist gently where the faint curve still glowed under her skin. For a moment, it almost pulsed.
And suddenly, the words from the latest note echoed again:
"The girl with half a mark has more to uncover than just secrets."
Whatever this was… it wasn't over.
It was only just beginning.