Next day,
The morning sunlight filtered through the classroom windows, soft and golden, the kind that made everything look gentler than it really was. Flora sat by the window, pretending to take notes while her mind replayed fragments from night before and the library yesterday afternoon. Shane's text, his quiet humor, the steady calm that somehow always cut through her nerves.
Her phone buzzed under the desk.
Shane: You looked distracted again.
Flora: Just trying to stay awake.
Shane: Try harder. You look better when you win against boredom.
She bit her lip, half amused.
Flora: Are you always this confident?
Shane: Confidence is just focus with better posture.
A quiet laugh slipped past her before she could stop it.
For past few days, she felt lighter.
Someone behind her whispered, "You're smiling at your phone again, Flora. Got a secret boyfriend?"
She flushed and quickly slid her phone into her bag. But the teasing didn't sting the way it used to.
---
By the second period, the door creaked open and the class rep walked in, waving a sheet of paper.
"Announcement from the staff room," she said, half-excited, half out of breath.
"Two-day school trip to Everwood Hills. In three days!"
The classroom erupted instantly. Everyone began talking at once about cabins, buses, snacks, who'd room with whom. Flora blinked down at her desk, unsure what to feel. Trips had never been her thing, too much noise, too many eyes pretending not to stare.
Her phone vibrated again.
Shane: You going on that trip?
Flora: Don't know yet.
Shane: Go. You'll like the quiet more than the chaos.
Flora: You think there'll be quiet?
Shane: If not, I'll make it for you.
She rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself.
---
Across the courtyard, Section A buzzed with its own noise. Grace Watson perched elegantly on her desk, talking to Austin about cabin lists. Liam sat in the far corner, notebook open but pen still.
When Austin mentioned Flora's name just casually, with that faint smile, Liam's hand paused midair.
He glanced at his phone, typed something, then erased it.
Liam:You shouldn't go.
He hesitated, then pocketed the phone, exhaling quietly.
Grace caught the movement. "You okay?"
He gave a thin smile. "Just tired of people pretending they care."
---
After school, the mansion glowed in the fading amber light. Brandon's voice carried faintly from downstairs probably arguing with his assistant about project and somewhere in the guest wing, Liam's footsteps echoed briefly before silence returned.
Flora climbed the stairs to her room, her bag slung loosely over one shoulder. The faint scent of lavender hung in the hall. When she emptied her bag on the bed, a folded paper slipped out, not hers.
She frowned, unfolding it.
Trips change people. Be careful who sits beside you.
The handwriting was neat, deliberate — not, not anyone she recognized.
Her chest tightened. The mansion suddenly felt too still, like it was holding its breath. She glanced toward the window. Nothing. Just the garden lights flickering faintly below.
Her fingers hovered over her phone. For a second, she thought of telling Shane, but the thought of sounding paranoid made her stop.
Instead, she typed something safe.
Flora: Did you book your spot for the trip?
Shane: Yeah. You?
Flora: Wouldn't miss it.
Shane: Good. I'll save you the window seat.
Her chest eased a little. She smiled faintly, resting her phone beside her.
---
On other side,
a dim room glowed faintly blue. The low hum of electronics filled the silence.
On the desk sat a laptop, its screen split between school records and audio files lines of waveforms pulsing softly. One window displayed the Everwood Hills trip announcement; a single name was highlighted.
A voice came through the headphones, quiet, deliberate.
"She's going."
A faint pause, then another voice low, almost pleased.
"Good thing I left the note this time."
The listener adjusted the volume, scrolling through the recordings faint sounds of footsteps, laughter, her voice saying something from earlier:
"You think there'll be quiet?"
The hand hovering over the mouse froze. A slow breath followed.
Then, reflected in the dim light, the laptop screen flickered Flora's wallpaper filling the display, her smile frozen mid-turn.
The room fell utterly still.
The screen dimmed, leaving only the soft flicker of the sound waves still moving, still listening.