It was almost midnight when Helena, Greg, and Theo stood outside the forbidden wing of Brentford Academy.
The east wing had been locked for years. Rumors called it The White Room—once a counseling center for troubled students, now sealed off after “an incident” nobody ever talked about.
Sophia’s last documented visit had been here.
Greg held the stolen keycard in one hand, flashlight in the other. “Are you sure this is it?”
Helena nodded. Her breath was visible in the cold air.
Theo glanced down the corridor. “CCTV looped. But we have maybe fifteen minutes before the system restarts.”
Greg slid the card through the scanner.
A low click.
The door opened.
Inside was dust. Silence. And a deep, suffocating sense of grief.
The room was stark white—walls, floors, even the curtains. Desks had been pushed aside. A single couch sat in the corner, faded with age. The lights flickered overhead, revealing a glass cabinet bolted shut.
Theo moved first, scanning the room for surveillance. Helena stepped toward a row of locked file drawers. Her fingers trembled as she found one labeled: “PRIVATE — WITHDRAWN STUDENTS.”
She looked at Greg.
He stepped forward and forced it open with a metal rod he’d brought.
Inside were manila folders. Stacks of them.
But one was thicker than the rest.
SOPHIA MAKINDE.
Helena pulled it out and opened it. Her eyes scanned the contents quickly:
A forged psychiatric report labeling Sophia as “emotionally unstable.”Letters supposedly written by Sophia requesting withdrawal.Photocopies of her handwriting that didn’t match her real penmanship from the yearbook Tessy had shown Helena.A final sheet: “Student transferred for psychological reevaluation. Records sealed.”
Helena’s stomach churned.
“They made it look like she lost her mind,” she whispered.
Greg’s face darkened. “And no one questioned it.”
Theo pointed to the back of the folder. “There’s a reference to Room 214. Counseling logbook.”
Helena crossed the room, dust flying as she opened a locked drawer. Inside, bound in cracked leather, was the logbook.
She flipped to the last pages.
Sophia Makinde — Session 7.
Date: April 18
Notes: Expressed fear of retaliation. Cited specific names. Audio transcription marked CONFIDENTIAL.
But it was the list on the final page that made her blood run cold:
“Students Marked for Counseling — DO NOT RELEASE.”
Sophia Makinde
Grace Okoro
Mirabel Ade
Deborah James
Isaiah Umeh
All names Helena didn’t recognize.
Theo leaned in. “These students… they never came back to Brentford after third term. No graduation. No transfer records.”
Helena’s fingers tightened on the page. “They erased them.”
Suddenly, a soft ding echoed from Theo’s laptop.
A message.
Tessy.
“I got the footage. Meet me outside now. It’s bad.”
They ran.
Fifteen Minutes Later – Tessy’s Car
Tessy sat in the driver’s seat, her face pale, the screen of her tablet glowing.
“I broke into the school’s old archive room. Found a USB stuck inside a file box labeled 'Disciplinary Reviews – 20XX.'"
She handed the tablet over. “This was recorded the night Sophia vanished. Time-stamped. Audio partially corrupted.”
Theo clicked play.
The screen showed a dimly lit room—The White Room.
Inside were three people.
Bianca.
The Headmaster.
And Greg’s father.
Helena gasped. Greg sat frozen.
The audio crackled, then steadied just long enough for them to hear a few chilling lines:
Bianca (coldly): “She recorded everything. She said if anything happened to her, she’d release the truth.”
Greg’s Father: “Then make sure nothing gets released.”
Headmaster: “She’s unstable. It’ll be easy to sell.”
Bianca: “And the other girl? The new one?”
A pause.
Greg’s Father: “We’ll handle her too—if she keeps digging.”
The footage cut out.
The tablet screen went black.
Tessy turned in her seat, voice low and scared. “They planned this. Not just Sophia. You too, Helena.”
Helena stared at the screen, the words echoing like ghosts.
They’d planned it.
They were still planning it.
She wasn’t just in danger.
She was next.
Cliffhanger Ending
That night, Helena stood alone outside the dormitory, the footage still fresh in her mind.
She looked up at the Brentford crest engraved in stone above the main hall.
A lie.
A graveyard.
She took a step forward—then froze.
Her phone buzzed.
A message. No name.
“Nice detective work, princess. But you’re not leaving this school alive.”
Her phone screen glitched for a second.
And then a file downloaded itself to her screen.
A photo.
Sophia—bruised. In a chair. Crying.
A shadow behind her.
Tall.
Familiar.
But just out of frame.
Helena’s knees buckled.
She didn’t know what scared her more:
The photo.
Or the fact that she knew whoever took it…
Was still watching her.
The light from Tessy’s phone flickered across the dust-covered floor of the abandoned counseling wing. The White Room was colder than the rest of the school—colder and strangely quiet, like the walls themselves were holding their breath.
Theo crouched by the broken file cabinet in the corner, flipping through the warped logbook they’d found. Greg stood at the window, arms folded tightly, watching the storm gather outside. Helena sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes locked on the screen of Tessy’s phone as the footage played.
Tessy’s voice was tight. “This was buried deep. A locked server. Hidden folder. Took me two days to crack.”
The footage jittered slightly. Static lines ran through the grainy timestamped video. But what they saw was clear.
The night Sophia vanished.
Timestamp: 11:17 PM.
The door to the counseling room opened.
And in walked Bianca.
Then Mr. Carter—Greg’s father.
And finally, Headmaster Dorian.
Helena’s breath caught in her throat.
They were speaking, but the video had no audio. Still, their gestures were heated. Bianca was pacing. Mr. Carter was calm, arms crossed, gaze stone-cold. And the Headmaster… was holding a folder.
Tessy hit pause.
“Do you see what’s on the folder?” she whispered.
Helena leaned in. The grainy resolution made it hard to read, but three words stood out in bold black letters:
CONFIDENTIAL – MAKINDE, SOPHIA.
Greg stepped forward. “That’s my father. He lied to me. Said he barely knew her.”
Theo pulled out his laptop, inserting the logbook photo they’d scanned earlier. “And he signed off on this,” he said, pointing at the name at the bottom of Sophia’s withdrawal form.
Mr. Carter.
Greg’s jaw clenched. “He forged it.”
Tessy turned back to the video and hit play again.
At 11:21 PM, another figure stepped into frame.
A girl.
Face blurred.
Hair long. Black. Slender frame.
Helena leaned closer.
“Is that… her?”
But the figure’s face never turned toward the camera. The room erupted in movement—Bianca gesturing at the girl. Mr. Carter stepping forward. The Headmaster placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder.
And then—11:28 PM—the screen went black.
The feed cut.
Helena sat back, heart racing. “They were all involved. All of them.”
“And she never left,” Greg said softly. “She didn’t run. They made her disappear.”
Theo shut his laptop. “And if they did it once…”
“They’ll do it again,” Helena finished.
Later That Night – Brentford Courtyard
Rain misted down as the trio stood under the awning, their breath fogging in the cold.
“What do we do now?” Tessy asked.
Greg looked down at the flash drive in his hand. “We expose them.”
Theo shook his head. “They’ll bury it. Destroy us before we even speak. They have money, control, power—”
Helena stepped forward. “Then we take it from them. One lie at a time.”
Greg turned to her, his voice low. “You’re not afraid?”
“I am,” she whispered. “But I’m more afraid of what happens if we do nothing.”
Cliffhanger Ending
As they turned to head back inside, Greg’s phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
"She screamed. And none of you heard it."
Attached was a photo.
A girl tied to a chair.
Eyes wide with fear.
Hair matted with blood.
And the photo wasn’t old.
It was taken hours ago.
Helena stared at the screen—and her knees nearly gave out.
Because the girl in the photo…
Was wearing Tessy’s necklace.
