10

I couldn’t sleep after what happened in detention.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that message — You’re next.
The glow of the projector. The look on Noah’s face frozen in that video.
I had to know the truth.

I texted him around midnight.
“Meet me at the park. Please.”
He replied almost instantly: “Don’t do this.”
But ten minutes later, he was there.

The park was empty, silent except for the sound of wind moving through the trees.
Noah looked different — tired, pale, like he hadn’t slept in weeks.
For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence said enough.

Finally, I said it. “You were there, Noah. In the lab. I saw the video.”
His jaw tightened. His eyes darted away.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen,” he whispered. “We just wanted to scare her. That’s all.”

My chest felt hollow. “You what?”
He shook his head. “We didn’t think she’d go back inside. The fire started by accident, I swear. But when it happened… we panicked. We ran.”
His voice cracked. “And we left her there.”

Tears blurred my vision.
“So all this time… all the lies, the silence—”
He looked at me then, eyes full of guilt and something close to fear.
“She wasn’t the only one in the lab that night.”