ログインCatherine's POV The first thing I feel is the pull, sharp and piercing deep in my head as Jack grabs my hair and yanks me forward without hesitation. I am helpless in his grip, my body scraping across the concrete as my knees hit the ground first, sending shocks through my bones.My palms hit next, burning on impact, and then my shoulder takes the weight my legs can no longer carry. Each hit feels dull at first, like my body is trying to protect me, but the numbness spreads until the pain becomes impossible to ignore.The schoolyard stretches under me in broken pieces, patches of gravel cutting into my skin, faded chalk lines rushing past my eyes, shoes moving out of the way just in time so no one gets caught in the path of what is happening.No one steps in, no one hesitates; they just watch as if this is something to enjoy. Laughter rises above the sound of scraping and cracking, and the madness of it twists something cold inside me. My breathing is shallow and stuck, trapped bet
Amy's POV I glare at Richard. “What? So you’re just going to stand there and say nothing?” I clench my hand into a small fist and press it against my thigh.There’s a dead body inside the schoolyard, and Richard is just… standing here, watching me. Like whatever is in his head matters more than what’s happening inside the school.“Catherine is waiting for me inside. I need to go.”I try to step past him, but his hand shoots out, grabbing mine…firm enough to stop me completely. The grip isn’t rough, but it isn’t gentle either.“You knew, didn’t you?” he asks.My mind scrambles to catch up, and I pull my hand free in a quick, defensive motion, creating just enough space between us.“Know what?”His eyes don’t leave mine.“About the Rovin on Catherine’s waist.”My breath catches…sharp and sudden…like something just tightened around my throat.“How… did you know?”It comes out broken, and I hate that I’ve already given something away without meaning to.Because I didn’t tell anyone.Not
Cody's POV Tears blur my vision. I can’t move. I can’t speak. I can’t even summon the will to step closer. Then a shift ripples through the crowd…subtle, almost silent, but enough to pull at my instincts.I glance briefly to the side…and that’s when I see her.Natasha.She isn’t reacting like the others. No panic. No confusion. Just standing there, arms loosely folded, watching everything unfold like it’s a performance meant for her alone.Her gaze flicks past me, landing somewhere behind…She nods…but I can’t see who she’s nodding at.A chill runs down my spine.Then another sound cuts through, rough and full of panic.“No!”I turn slowly, like peering into a room I shouldn’t be in, and there she is. Catherine. On the ground, face streaked with tears, trembling.The air leaves my lungs. Her voice rises again, cracking, desperate, disbelief tangled with grief.“She can’t be dead,” she shouts, shaking her head violently. Her hair sticks to her cheeks with tears.I didn’t know she was
Cody's POV The drive to school stretches longer than it should. I keep one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely against the gear, glancing at Jack every now and then without making it obvious.He sits beside me, quiet, staring out the window like there’s something out there he’s trying to hold onto but can’t reach.I try once.Something small, something normal, just to break the silence, but it doesn’t land. The words fall somewhere between us and stay there, unanswered, and I don’t push it again.I already know where his mind is, where it’s been for weeks now. Saying her name out loud won’t help. Asking questions won’t either. It will only drag him deeper into it, make him sit in it longer than he already does.So I let the silence stay.The engine hum fills the space instead. It’s the only thing that doesn’t feel like it’s about to shift under my feet.We get closer to school, the gates coming into view, and that’s when I see her.Catherine.She’s standing a few feet away f
Catherine POV I wake before the alarm. The staff room is still dim, the faint buzz of electricity in the walls louder than it should be, and for a second I lie there staring at the ceiling, trying to remember where I am without letting everything else rush in too quickly.It doesn’t work.Clinton flashes first.Not his face…just the way he was bent over, his hand pressed against his chest. The blood…too much of it, too sudden…and the way he told me to stay back, like I was the danger.I sit up before the memory can settle any deeper.I move quickly after that, like if I slow down even a little I might start thinking again, and I don’t want to. Not yet. I gather my things, step into the small bathroom, and turn the water on colder than usual. It hits my skin sharp, immediate, and I focus on that instead…the shock, the sensation, the simple act of standing there and letting something physical replace everything else.It helps.Not enough, but enough to keep moving.By the time I finis
Catherine's POV I step back into the store, the bell chiming behind me and sounding far too loud. My face is still wet, streaked with tears that I haven’t bothered to wipe entirely, and I wish I had something to do, anything that could make him okay again. Anything to fix the hollow, aching weight that’s rooted itself in my chest. If I didn’t know Clinton, I might think he’s refusing help because I refused him first, but that isn’t it. Not even close.I press my palms to my face, patting quickly, deliberately, trying to erase the evidence, and I force a smile that doesn’t feel like mine. The reflection in the glass window across from me is unfamiliar, taut with tension, a mask I’ve become adept at wearing when the world is too sharp, too heavy.The bell jingles again, smaller this time, and I glance up instinctively. A figure steps in, hood pulled low, a cap shading most of her face, all black from head to toe. My chest tightens immediately, muscles coiling without permission. A fl







