
The sound of stilettos echoed down the hallway.
Every step Rose took was calculated. Perfect posture. Hair in place. Her expression unreadable.
But inside, her chest burned. She wasn’t used to being second. She wasn’t second.
And yet—since Isabel showed up, the school’s attention had started to shift. Slightly. Subtly. Like a tide turning before the storm hits.
Rose hated storms she didn’t control.
At lunch, the usual table was full—Karoline gossiping about some junior who got caught with a flask, Pearl quietly sipping her green tea, and Ryan looking like he wanted to kill someone just for breathing wrong.
But Isabel? She walked right past them. Sat alone under the old oak tree, with a notebook and a half-eaten apple.
She wasn’t trying to be different.
That made it worse.
“She thinks she’s better than us,” Rose snapped, eyes glued to the tree. “Sits there like some tragic heroine.”
“She’s just existing,” said Pearl.
“She’s acting like she doesn’t care. That’s a power move,” Karoline added, chewing her straw. “Honestly? Kinda iconic.”
“Traitors,” Rose muttered. “You’re both eating out of her hand and she’s not even feeding you.”
Ryan slammed his fist down. “She’s playing all of us.”
“I say we play her back,” Rose said slowly. “Strip the mask. See what she’s really hiding.”
That evening, Mark texted her.
rooftop. 10pm. alone.
Isabel didn’t answer, but she showed up anyway.
Mark was smoking a cigarette, staring at the stars like they owed him something.
“Didn’t think you’d come,” he said.
“I like the quiet,” she replied. “And the view.”
He smirked. “Which one?”
She stepped closer. “Depends who’s watching.”
There was a beat of silence. Charged.
“Why are you really here, Isabel?” Mark asked. “What are you running from?”
She stared at him. “Why do you assume I’m running?”
“Because I am.”
They both stood there for a moment—two broken mirrors reflecting each other.
Then Isabel said softly, “You don’t scare me, Mark.”
“You should,” he whispered.
Back in her dorm, Isabel opened her notebook. A sketch of the school was half-finished—fog, windows, a tower in the distance.
She turned the page.
The next one held names.
Rose = threatened
Karoline = cracked
Pearl = watcher
Samantha = curious
Mark = unstable
Andrew = fake
Ryan = obsessed
Adam = dangerous
She stared at the last name.
Under it, she’d written:
He’s the only one who sees me.
And then, as if summoned, her phone buzzed.
Adam: “Can we talk? Meet me behind the library. Midnight.”
Isabel’s lips curled into a smile.
She didn’t answer.
But she was already putting on her coat.
Somewhere in the dark, the chessboard was being set.23Please respect copyright.PENANASSv8LEWcQ7
And Isabel had just moved her first piece.
23Please respect copyright.PENANAEQz4YtIapr
Stay Tuned for chapter 4
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