CHAPTER FOUR

HAZEL

"You don't need to walk me in, Dad. I'm not eight anymore." I stood in the school parking lot, shifting my backpack on my shoulders while he gave me that worried look I'd seen a thousand times since coming back to Ravenville.

Dad's hand went to the silver pendant around my neck, adjusting it for the tenth time this morning. "Just... promise me you'll keep this on. No matter what."

"Yeah, yeah, your magic necklace. Got it." I rolled my eyes but touched the pendant anyway. It felt weirdly warm against my skin, like it always did. "Are you ever going to tell me why it's so important?"

His face did that thing where it shut down completely. "Just keep it on. And Hazel? “

"What?"

"Remember - two weeks. Two weeks is all you get. If thing's don't work out—-"

"You'll ship me back to Aunt Jenna. Yeah, I got it." I didn't look back as I walked away, afraid he'd see how much that thought terrified me. Two weeks. Fourteen days to prove I belonged here, to make Darryl remember me, to figure out what the hell was happening in this town.

The body of the taxi driver flashed through my mind, followed by those burning red eyes in the woods. I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. Maybe I was crazy for staying. But Darryl was here, and right now, he felt like the only solid thing I could hold onto in this mess.

I faced the brick building in front of me. Ashwood High. Same ugly yellow bricks, same heavy double doors. It looked exactly the same as it had eight years ago. Taking a deep breath, I pushed through the heavy front doors.

The stares hit me immediately. Of course they did - I was the freak with the golden eyes who'd vanished years ago. But I held my head high and focused on remembering where the administration office was.

The office was empty except for a sleepy-looking secretary who barely glanced up as I collected my schedule and locker assignment.

I tucked the papers into my bag and turned to leave, only to collide with someone entering the office.

Books scattered across the floor as we both stumbled backward.

"I'm so sorry," I said, dropping to my knees to gather my scattered belongings. The girl didn't move to help, just stood there watching me scramble. As I stood up,ready to apologize again, the words died in my throat.

It was her. The girl from Darryl's car. Up close, she was even more stunning, with perfect curves and a flawless skin. Her Gray eyes narrowed as she recognized me.

"It's you again.” She smirked, looking me up and down. “You really have a habit of getting in people's way, don't you? First the bicycle, now this. What's next, bicycle klutz? Or are your golden eyes too clouded to see where you're going."

I felt my cheeks burn. I hated when people picked on my appearance. All the niceness drained out of me in an instant.

"Listen here," I met her gaze. "I've been nothing but nice to you. I don't know what your problem is, but being a bitch isn't going to solve it. How about you try being a decent human being for once?"

Her eyes widened, clearly not used to someone standing up to her. I could tell her type - the queen bee, untouchable, used to everyone cowering before her.

She recovered quickly and stepped closer. "Well, let me just drop this one for now since you clearly don't know who I am. But consider this your only warning.. stay away from Darryl. He's moved on from whatever little childhood fantasy you're trying to relive. He doesn't need any blasts from the past."

My heart skipped a beat. So Darryl did remember me. He wasn't just ignoring me because he'd forgotten - he was deliberately avoiding me. I wasn't sure if that made things better or worse.

"Thanks for the warning, but I don't take orders from schoolyard bullies. If Darryl has a problem with me, he can tell me himself."

I brushed past her, making sure my shoulder knocked into hers as I went. But even as I walked away, her words echoed in my head. Why was Darryl really avoiding me?

***************

"I'm Hazel LièRén, nice to meet you all."

I stood at the front of the history class, feeling all eyes on me as the teacher had called me out. Being the "new" student - or rather, the returned prodigal - was already grating on my nerves.

Mr. Thompson, a middle-aged with a receding hairline and thick-rimmed glasses leaned forward.

"LièRén? That's quite an intriguing name. What does it mean ?"

I sighed, already bored with this interrogation. "It's Chinese. It means 'brave hunter.'"

"Okay, that's... unexpected. A Chinese surname for a girl who looks no where Chinese."

"Yeah, tell me about it," I muttered, thinking back to the countless times I'd questioned my dad about our family name. His vague answers about "generational traditions" had always left me more questions than answers.

His gaze drifted downward, fixating on my chest. I was about to call him out for being a creep when I realized he was staring at my necklace.

"That's quite an unusual pendant," He continued. " Where did you get it?"

Instinctively, my hand flew to the silver arrow-shaped pendant hanging from my neck. "It was a gift from my father."

"May I take a closer look?" he asked and stepped forward with an outstretched hand.

“Not a chance in hell," I said bluntly, taking a step back.

"Whoa, I was just joking," he chuckled with his widened eyes. "You're so unique, I must give you that."

"Unique? More like weird," someone muttered from the back of the class.

"Tell me about it. She's looking so freakish with that hair and those eyes," another voice whispered.

Ignoring the whispers my enhanced senses picked up, I focused on Darryl at the back of the room. He wasn't even looking at me, engrossed in conversation with the guy beside him - Lucian, if I remembered correctly. Katrina was laughing at something, her hand on Darryl's arm. The sight made my heart ache. I should be the one there instead.

Finally, Mr. Thompson dismissed me with a wave. I made my way to an empty desk, stealing glances at Darryl. Each time I looked, he quickly averted his gaze.

As the bell rang to signal the end of class, I gathered my books, watching Darryl rush out with his friends. Without thinking, I bolted after him.

"Darryl!" I called out. "You can't keep pretending I don't exist!"

But he kept walking, ignoring me completely.

"You know, for someone who used to be my best friend, you're acting like a real asshole!" The words tumbled out before I could stop them.

He stopped immediately, turning to face me. Before I could blink, I found myself pinned against the wall. Darryl's face was inches from mine with his eyes blazing. His breath was warm on my skin which sent shivers down my spine. Despite the rough treatment, I couldn't help but notice how angelic he looked up close.

Darryl growled with that same animal-like sound from before. "You want my attention? Fine, you've got it. What do you fucking want?”

I swallowed hard, struggling to form words. "I... I just wanted to ask why. Why are you treating me like this? I don't deserve all this... I don't even know what I did!"

His grip on my arms tightened. "You don't know what you did?" He laughed bitterly, running a hand through his hair. "Does 'It's gonna be the best day ever, Darryl!' ring any bells? Oh wait, that didn't quite work out, did it? Happy fucking birthday to me."

I froze, the memories I'd tried so hard to suppress coming back in a rush. "I... I didn't mean-"

He cut me off. "Just leave, Hazel. Leave this time and stay gone forever. You disgust me." He slammed his hand against the wall beside my head and stormed off.

As I watched him disappear down the hallway, memories of that day came suddenly. I remembered waking up so early, excited for his birthday. The cookies I'd baked were still warm, the friendship bracelet I'd spent weeks making wrapped perfectly. Then Dad's face as he called me downstairs. "There's been an accident. It's your mom..."

Before I could even process what was happening, Dad was throwing clothes into suitcases, insisting we had to leave immediately. My desperate pleas to let me say goodbye to Darryl fell on deaf ears. There wasn't time. There was never enough time.

All I could do was leave that hastily written note on the porch, praying he'd understand. But he never called, never wrote. And when I finally gathered the courage to reach out months later, my letters came back unopened.

I wiped my eyes and was about to leave when something caught my attention. There, where Darryl's hand had hit the wall, were deep gouges in the painted surface.

They weren't just scratches, they were claw marks.

Fresh ones.

The kind no human hand could make.