12

Everyone remembers the fire.
But before the smoke, before the screams, there was a party.
A celebration that wasn’t supposed to happen — one last night before exams, one last secret after dark.

It started in the gym. Music too loud, lights flashing, someone had brought a speaker and snacks.
Emily was there — smiling, laughing, recording everything with her phone.
She looked so alive. So real. It’s hard to believe that hours later, she’d be gone.

Noah told me once that she found something that night — a message, an email, something that wasn’t meant for her.
She tried to confront them.
But by then, everyone had been drinking. No one was thinking clearly.

Around midnight, she left the party.
No one followed her. At least, that’s what they said.
But security footage — the one they “deleted” — showed three students leaving minutes later.
Noah. Claire. And me.

I didn’t remember it. Not until now.
The noise, the fear, the smell of smoke — it all came rushing back in flashes.
We weren’t supposed to be there. We weren’t supposed to see what happened next.

And now I understand the message.
The whispers. The notes.
They weren’t trying to scare me.
They were trying to remind me.