The sun peeked through the windows of Brentford’s east wing, casting golden light through the hallway as Helena waited at Greg’s locker. Her fingers brushed the edges of his hoodie—hers now, after he insisted she take it when the night got cold during their garden talk.
She smiled to herself.
For once, something felt good. Real. Safe.
And when Greg rounded the corner and saw her, the grin that stretched across his face only made it more so.
“You waited,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
Helena nodded. “I always will.”
Greg laced his fingers through hers, and they walked together down the hall—shoulder to shoulder, eyes defiant against the glares and whispers still trailing in their wake. But this time, Helena didn’t flinch.
They had each other. That was enough.
Until lunch.
Girls’ Bathroom – Brentford High
Helena leaned over the sink, gripping its edges as a wave of nausea rolled through her. Her stomach flipped violently, and within seconds, she was in the stall, throwing up what little breakfast she’d had.
She barely heard the click of a camera outside.
Or the quiet scoff of the person who took it.
Bianca stood by the mirror, her phone in hand and a satisfied gleam in her eye.
“Well, well,” she whispered. “Would you look at that.”
Later That Day — The Quad
Helena stepped onto the quad and immediately felt it.
The stares.
The whispers.
Phones were out. Screens lit. Smirks exchanged.
A group of junior girls looked directly at her and giggled behind their hands.
She walked faster.
A poster on one of the bulletin boards caught her eye—her name scribbled in red marker with the word “MAMA?” underneath.
Her stomach dropped.
“What the hell…”
Greg appeared out of nowhere, jogging to her side. His face was pale, his voice stiff.
“Helena—hey. Is it true?”
She turned to him slowly. “Is what true?”
“The rumors,” he said. “That… you’re pregnant.”
The world froze.
Her eyes widened. “Greg, what? No! Of course not!”
He let out a shaky breath, shoulders sagging with relief. “Okay. Okay. I just… someone said Bianca saw you sick in the bathroom. She’s been showing a photo around. Saying you’re hiding something.”
Helena’s hands clenched into fists. “She followed me?”
Greg’s jaw tightened. “She’s crossing a line.”
“Again,” Helena muttered. “She’s obsessed.”
Greg took her hand. “We’re going to end this. I don’t care how many lies she spreads—none of that changes what I feel for you. You hear me?”
Helena looked up at him, heart pounding.
“I believe you,” she whispered.
He brushed her hair back gently. “Then we’ll face this together.”
And as they stood there, surrounded by whispers and stares, Greg pulled her into a kiss—slow and certain—right in the middle of the quad.
And just like that, the noise faded.
But far from the crowd, Bianca stood with her arms folded, eyes burning with rage.
"If she wants war..." she muttered, "then she'll get it."
Cliffhanger Ending – Chapter Twenty-Four
That night, a new envelope appeared in Greg’s locker.
Inside was a copy of the same bathroom photo—only this time, someone had scribbled across it in black ink:
“You really think this ends with you two happy?”
That night, after basketball practice, Greg returned to the locker room—exhausted, sore, but eager to call Helena.
He reached for his lock, but paused.
Something was sticking out of the corner.
A beige envelope.
No name. No handwriting.
Just... there.
Greg pulled it free and opened it under the dim light of the locker room.
Inside was a printed version of the same photo Bianca had spread around—Helena, hunched over the bathroom sink, pale and nauseous. But this one had been tampered with.
Across it, scrawled in jagged black ink:
“She lied to you. Just like Sophia did.”
Greg stared at it for a moment, something icy tightening in his chest. His mind raced with the name—Sophia—the girl who vanished.
He shoved the photo back in the envelope and stormed out, dialing Helena as he moved.
She picked up on the second ring.
“Greg?”
“Where are you?”
“My room—why? What’s wrong?”
“Stay there. I’m coming.”
Helena’s Dorm Room – 9:47 p.m.
Helena opened the door and Greg stepped in, barely containing the storm on his face.
“What happened?” she asked, concerned.
Greg pulled out the envelope and handed it to her.
She opened it slowly, staring down at the photo—at the words scribbled across it.
Her throat tightened. “This is… they think I’m her?”
“They’re trying to rattle us,” Greg said, pacing. “Or maybe—”
“—Trying to warn us,” Helena cut in, her voice quieter. “Sophia was sick too, remember? Right before she disappeared.”
Greg’s eyes snapped to hers. “You think she was pregnant?”
“I don’t know. But this rumor, the photo, the threats—it’s all too similar.”
She dropped the envelope onto her bed.
Greg walked over and held her face gently between his hands. “You’re not her, Helena. You’re still here. And I’m not letting anything happen to you.”
She blinked back a rush of tears. “Promise me we won’t let them break us.”
“I swear,” Greg whispered. “They don’t win. Not this time.”
He kissed her forehead. Then her lips. A slow, grounding kiss that made the chaos fade.
Meanwhile – Outside Brentford
In the shadows of a waiting car, Bianca sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed.
“She didn’t deny it,” she said to the driver. “Greg believes anything that girl says. Pathetic.”
The person beside her—a man in a gray hoodie—glanced over. “The more desperate she gets, the sloppier she’ll become.”
Bianca smirked. “Good. Then we bury her with her lies.”
The man pulled something from his glove compartment.
An old Brentford file.
Labeled: Project Mirror.
Helena sat on the edge of her bed after Greg left, the envelope still resting beside her. Her fingers traced the edge of the printed photo—the crude words She lied to you. Just like Sophia did.
It wasn’t just a threat.
It was a message.
Someone wanted her gone.
She reached for her journal and began scribbling everything she could remember—Sophia’s name, the rumors, the similarities, the sudden morning nausea… even her strange dreams.
A knock on the window startled her.
Helena jumped up, heart pounding. Slowly, she moved toward it and pulled the curtain back.
Nothing.
Just shadows, dancing under the moonlight.
She let out a breath.
But when she turned around, a small folded paper had been slipped under her door.
Helena hesitated… then picked it up.
One line was scrawled across it in red marker:
“You’ll disappear just like she did. Brentford has no room for girls like you.”
Her hands shook.
She wasn’t crazy.
She was being hunted.
Next Morning – Brentford Academy
The mood on campus had shifted. Everyone walked faster. Spoke in hushed tones. There were rumors of security being tightened. Of files going missing. Of the Headmaster taking sudden meetings with the Board.
Helena walked into English class with her head held high.
Bianca was already seated near the window, scrolling through her phone.
She didn’t look up.
But she didn’t have to.
Her voice was sweet as honey.
“Hope you’re feeling better, Helena. The color’s back in your cheeks. That’s good—for now.”
Helena clenched her jaw and moved past her.
Greg joined her moments later and leaned in, whispering, “I think it’s time we stop reacting.”
She looked at him. “What do you mean?”
He opened his notebook and passed her a torn sheet.
On it was a list of names.
Greg whispered: “People who knew Sophia. Teachers. Students. Admin. One of them started this. And one of them’s going to end it.”
Helena took the list in her hand and nodded.
But Bianca?
She wasn’t done either.
Cliffhanger Ending – Chapter Twenty-Four
That night, as Greg walked toward his car, he found his windshield smeared with red paint.
Three words, large and dripping down the glass:
“You’re Next, Loverboy.”
