9

I got detention again — this time for being late to class.
Ms. Miller said she was “worried about my attitude,” but the way she looked at me said something else: fear.
Maybe she thought I was losing it. Maybe I was.

It was the same empty classroom as before, the same echo of the rain against the glass.
I sat at the back, trying to focus on my notebook, when I heard the door creak.
“Ms. Miller?” I asked, but no one answered.

The lights flickered once, twice. Then the projector turned on by itself.
A bright white glow filled the room. On the screen, a still image appeared — blurry, gray, but familiar.
The science lab. The night of the fire.

There were figures in the frame — shadows moving, faces half-hidden.
And one of them… one of them was Noah.
My hands started to shake. The image glitched, flickered — and suddenly, words appeared across the screen:
“You’re next.”

The lights went out completely.
For a second, I could only hear my heartbeat.
Then, from the corner of the room, a voice — quiet, broken, familiar.
“Why did you leave me?”