I pushed open the front door, and Mrs. Black was there, just like always, with a gentle smile. "How was school? And the exam?" she asked, her voice soft.
"Fine," I muttered, not really engaging. I gave her a quick nod, not wanting to talk, and headed straight for my room.
Once inside, I dropped my bag to the floor with a thud and let out a long sigh. The exhaustion of the day pressed down on me, heavier than usual. I lay back on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. My mind wandered, and I let myself drift back—back to a time before all of this.
I was five years old again. It was summer, and my mother and I were at the beach. The smell of saltwater filled the air as waves crashed against the shore. We were laughing, truly laughing, as she chased me along the sand. Her face was bright, alive, and for a moment, it felt like everything was perfect. I could still see her smile, the way her hair danced in the wind. She looked so happy, so free. I felt her hand in mine as we ran toward the water. It was one of the last memories I had of her before everything changed.
I blinked back tears as the memory faded, leaving behind a hollow ache.
Somehow, I must've fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, there was a knock on my door. Mrs. Black's voice came through. "Mia, dinner's ready."
Normally, I would've ignored it, choosing to eat alone in my room. But tonight, for some reason, I got up and joined them at the table. Mr. Black smiled as I sat down, and they both tried to keep the conversation light, asking me about the exam again, talking about the weather, anything to fill the silence.
I mostly just poked at my food, the fork moving aimlessly around the plate. I wasn't really hungry. The Blacks were kind, patient, but their efforts felt distant—like something I couldn't reach anymore.
Halfway through the meal, the phone rang. Mr. Black excused himself and answered it. He was gone for only a moment before returning, his expression carefully neutral. "That was the principal," he said as he sat back down. "He said you can start attending school as usual from tomorrow."
I didn't say anything. The thought of going back made my stomach twist. I pushed my plate away and stood up. "I'm not hungry anymore," I mumbled, leaving the table without waiting for a response.
Once back in my room, I collapsed onto my bed, flicking through TikTok absentmindedly. It was a mindless distraction, something to drown out the noise in my head. But then, I froze. A video popped up, a familiar face glaring at me from the screen.
Hannah.
The caption read: "Exposing the sl*t who slept with my boyfriend and then cried assault."
My stomach dropped.
In the video, she reenacted the scene from this morning in the locker hallway, twisting it into some grotesque parody. Her voice was mocking, her laugh cruel, and I could see the comments piling up beneath the post—each one uglier than the last.
I felt the fury rise inside me, hot and unstoppable. My hands shook as I watched, my vision blurring with tears. How could she? How could anyone do this? The lies, the mockery—it was too much.
Before I even realized what I was doing, I grabbed the small knife I kept in my desk drawer. It wasn't much, just a blade I used to open packages, but right now, it felt like the only way to let out the hurt. I pressed it against the tip of my finger and dragged it across, a thin line of blood welling up as the sharp sting cut through the numbness.
The pain felt... real. It was something I could control, unlike everything else swirling around me.
Just then, my phone chimed, breaking through the haze. A notification.
I didn't notice the first chime, too lost in the sting of my thoughts. But then, the buzzing wouldn't stop—relentless, insistent. I blinked back the tears clouding my vision and reached for my phone, swiping at the screen to see what the fuss was about.
A notification popped up. "Do you want to block this account?"
It was Hannah's profile. Her mocking face stared back at me from her profile picture. Of course, it was her. She was always behind the worst of it. My heart pounded in my chest, but I didn't give it much thought before I pressed "Block." The buzzing stopped instantly, and for a moment, there was silence.
It should've felt like a relief, but the unease didn't leave me.
The next morning, as I made my way to school, I already knew what was waiting for me. Whatever people might've started to forget, that viral video had resurfaced it all. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach, a churning sensation that told me today wasn't going to be any different from all the other awful days.
As I walked through the school gates, the whispers started. I could feel eyes on me, the way people glanced my way and quickly looked away when I met their gaze. The hallway felt narrower, the walls pressing in as I made my way to my locker. It didn't matter that I'd blocked Hannah's account—the damage was done. Everyone had seen it.
They always looked at me like that—like I was something to be ashamed of, like I didn't belong here.
For a second, I thought about walking out of here—just disappearing. Dropping out, leaving everything behind, and never looking back. The thought was tempting, almost too easy. My hand tightened around the strap of my bag, and I turned to leave.
"Mia!"
I froze, the familiar voice stopping me mid-step. It was Sebastian. Of course, it was him.
He jogged over, a look of concern etched across his face. "I'm sorry about what Hannah posted," he said, his voice soft but sincere. "She's... horrible. You didn't deserve that."
I didn't know what to say. His words were kind, but they didn't change anything. The damage was done. Still, I nodded, unable to muster much more than that.
"I'll walk you to your exam," he offered, not waiting for a response.
I fell into step beside him. Sebastian talked—about the exam, about school, about the weather. I barely listened. My mind was elsewhere, tangled in a mess of thoughts I couldn't escape.
Calculus had never been my thing, but today... Today was different. Somehow, I managed to make it through, my brain surprisingly helping me work through the problems. By the end, I was confident I'd done well. An A or at least an A-, maybe. I hadn't expected that.
After the exam, Sebastian was waiting for me in the hallway. I didn't even have time to process the relief of being done with it before he was at my side again, talking, keeping me company. I nodded here and there, just enough to let him know I was listening, but inside, I was still a million miles away.
And then there was Chad.
"Well, well, if it isn't the star of the latest school scandal," Chad sneered, blocking our path. His friends snickered behind him, their laughter grating against my nerves.
Sebastian tensed beside me.
Chad's eyes narrowed, his smirk widening as he looked between me and Sebastian. "So, what is it? Is he your new s*x toy now, Mia? Already moved on?"
Before I could react, Sebastian lunged. His hands gripped Chad's shirt, slamming him against the locker with a force that made a metallic clang echo through the hall.
"Stay out of it, Chad," Sebastian growled, his voice low and dangerous.
For a moment, Chad's bravado faltered, but then the smirk returned. "Touchy, aren't we?"
Sebastian was still gripping Chad's shirt when the sound of footsteps filled the hallway. I turned just in time to see Principal Reynolds, striding toward us, but it wasn't just him. Officer Hallowe was with him, his usual stern expression locked in place.
My heart stuttered.
What's he doing here? Did they find something—evidence?
Officer Hallowe was the detective on my case. He'd been the one to question me, to ask the hard questions that made me feel like I was under a spotlight. Seeing him here... it didn't feel good. There was no comfort in it, no reassurance. Just a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach.
Sebastian let go of Chad, stepping back as the principal approached. The hallway went eerily quiet, the usual buzz of students evaporating as all eyes turned toward the new arrivals. Even Chad's smirk faded, his friends falling silent like the flick of a switch.
Then I saw him. Mr. Frost, Hannah's father, was trailing behind them. His face was tight, pale with stress. What the hell was going on?
Officer Hallowe's gaze crossed mine briefly, and I swear there was something cold, almost disappointed, in his eyes. He looked like a man who was angry at something—maybe at me. But why? What had I done now?
Principal Reynolds cleared his throat. "I need all of you to come with me," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
We followed in silence, the tension in the air palpable. The moment we entered the auditorium, I knew something was seriously wrong. The room felt different, heavier.
The principal stepped up to the front, his eyes scanning the room before he spoke again. "I'm sure by now some of you may have heard, but... Hannah Frost went missing last night. She disappeared from her room, and as of now, we have no leads."
My blood ran cold.