Earlier
Back at the school gates, Ethan checked his watch for the tenth time. He had been standing there for over an hour. Usually, Daisy was would take this much time to come.
The sun was beginning to set, casting long, jagged shadows across the pavement. Ethan narrowed his eyes, a cold, sinking feeling settling in his gut.
Something is wrong, he thought. Something is very, very wrong.
ELSEHWHERE
The girls didn't stop running until they were deep within the skeletal frame of an unfinished building. Shadows stretched across the concrete floors as they ripped off their masks, lungs burning. Some collapsed against the raw brick walls, fumbling for water bottles.
"Who was that crazy woman?" Sasha gasped, wiping sweat from her forehead.
"That idiot's mother," Emma spat, leaning over her knees to catch her breath.
Evelyn let out a shaky laugh, adjusting her hair. "Glad we were wearing the masks. That would've been a mess."
"And if we weren't?" Olivia countered, her voice eerily calm. "What could she actually do?"
Emma looked at her, a chill running down her spine. "You're actually evil, Olivia."
Olivia didn't deny it. Instead, a slow, sharp smile spread across her face. "Our next target is Sophia."
The group went quiet. Evelyn frowned. "What did that girl ever do to you? She's harmless."
"My brother wants to recruit someone," Olivia explained, her eyes darkening with ambition. "He thinks Sophia is the key to getting to him. She's the bridge."
"So, what's the move?" Sasha asked.
"First, we play nice," Olivia said, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. "Introverts are soft. They're desperate for connection, so they forgive easily. We'll get close, make her trust us, and then extract everything she knows. Guilt is a powerful tool on people like her."
Isabella shook her head, though she was smiling. "You really are a monster, you know that?"
The building echoed with their collective laughter, a sharp, cold sound.
"Don't get cocky," Sasha warned, leaning back against a pillar. "Introverts aren't stupid. They observe. Sometimes they can see right through acts and smiles from a mile away."
Olivia's smile didn't fade, but it took on a devilish edge. "Well, if the 'nice' way fails... we'll just go back to the method we're best at."
The girls nodded, the malice in the room thickening.
"Today was a win," Olivia announced, standing up and dusting off her clothes. "Let's go. Party at my place."
Back at the school, the hallways were hauntingly quiet. Ethan stared at his phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. He had dialed Daisy's number five times; five times, it had gone straight to voicemail.
He turned back into the building. The sea of students had long since evaporated, leaving only a few teachers lingering in the staff rooms. Ethan hurried toward Daisy's classroom and spotted a familiar face—the teacher who had escorted Daisy to the office earlier that day.
"Sir!" Ethan called out.
The teacher stopped, looking up from his briefcase. "Yes? Can I help you?"
"I'm looking for Daisy, from the first-year class. Have you seen her?"
"Daisy? Oh, she left during the lunch break," the teacher replied.
Ethan's brow furrowed. "Left? Why?"
The teacher looked at him skeptically. "And you are?"
"I'm her brother."
"She said there was an emergency," the teacher explained, softening slightly. "Something about her grandfather being rushed to the hospital. She seemed very upset. Did she not tell you?"
Ethan didn't wait to answer. He turned on his heel and sprinted toward the exit. Grandfather? He hasn't been in the hospital in years. A cold knot of dread tightened in his chest.
He pulled out his phone and called his mother as he ran. She picked up on the second ring.
"Mom, where are you?" Ethan asked, his voice strained.
"I'm at home, honey," she said, her voice sounding uncharacteristically hollow.
"Is Grandpa okay? I heard he was in the hospital."
There was a heavy, suffocating silence on the other end of the line.
"Please... just come home, Ethan," she whispered.
Ethan burst through the front door minutes later. His mother was waiting. The moment he saw her, his heart sank—her eyes were bloodshot and swollen from crying.
"Come in," she said softly.
The dining table was set, the steam rising from the food, but the atmosphere was funereal. Ethan sat down, his hands trembling slightly. He couldn't look at the food.
"Mom," Ethan said, his voice low. "Is everything alright?"
His mother's composure broke. Fresh tears welled up as she looked at him. "Daisy... she was attacked."
The air left Ethan's lungs. "Who did it?"
"I don't know," she sobbed, covering her face with her hands. "They were wearing masks. They just... they trapped her." She reached out, pulling Ethan into a desperate hug. "What did I ever do to deserve this? Why are my children paying the price?"
Ethan held her, but his gaze was fixed on the wall, his eyes turning to ice. His blood didn't just boil; it turned into a quiet, focused rage.
I will make them pay.
The night was long and restless. By morning, the sun offered no warmth. At the private clinic, Daisy stirred in her bed.
"Mom?" she murmured.
Doctor Sera, who had been dozing in a chair nearby, bolted upright. "Daisy! You're awake."
"Doctor Sera? Where... why am I here?"
"My clinic. Your mother brought you in yesterday," Sera said, checking Daisy's vitals with practiced ease.
The memories hit Daisy all at once—the corner, the masks, the heavy blows. "Those girls," she whispered, her voice trembling. "They wouldn't stop. Then I heard Mom's voice and they ran."
"Don't dwell on it right now, Daisy," Sera said gently, tucking the blanket around her. "You need to rest. Just sleep."
Daisy nodded weakly, her eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion claimed her again.