chapter 21 " The night she vanished "

Three Years Ago — Brentford Academy, Term 3

It started with a whisper.

A name.

A file.

A door that should’ve been locked… but wasn’t.

Sophia Makinde had always been curious — a scholarship student with sharp eyes, quick hands, and a thirst for answers. Brentford glittered on the surface, but underneath, she’d seen its cracks. And she knew how to listen.

She also knew the rumors about the boys in power — the secret meetings, the falsified grades, the girls who left mid-term without warning.

But what she never expected was to find her own name on the list.

One Week Before She Vanished

The principal had left her office door open after hours — a mistake.

Sophia slipped in. The office was dark except for the low hum of the backup monitor. She didn’t mean to snoop. She just wanted to understand why her scholarship was suddenly “under review.”

But what she saw wasn’t just about her.

Ten names.

All girls.

All scholarship students.

All gone.

Some marked “Expelled”. Others “Transferred”.

But the last three — including her — were stamped in red:

Flagged – Behavioral Risk. Needs Erasure.

Sophia stepped back, heart pounding. A cold sweat broke across her skin.

Erasure?

What did that mean?

Then the screen flickered.

Someone else had logged in.

Her eyes darted to the hallway. Footsteps.

She shut the monitor and slipped out through the side entrance, barely breathing. But someone had seen her.

Greg.

Later That Night

Greg found her near the library steps, pacing.

“You broke into the admin system?” he hissed.

Sophia looked at him, furious. “You knew. You knew this school was doing something and said nothing.”

“I didn’t know it was this bad.”

“They’re planning to erase me, Greg.”

He reached for her. “Then we’ll go to someone. The press. Your family.”

Sophia pulled away. “No. No one can help me now. Not unless I disappear on my terms.”

He looked at her like he was seeing her for the last time. “You’re scaring me.”

“I’m already gone, Greg.”

The Night She Vanished

She left her phone in her dorm drawer.

She sent a scheduled email to the headmaster, claiming she was leaving for a family emergency.

She packed a single duffel bag and paid a cleaner to drive her into town in the middle of the night. She didn’t cry. She didn’t say goodbye.

Except to one person.

She left a note in Greg’s old camera case.

“Don’t look for me. Don’t try to fix this. They’re watching you too.”

“I loved you. But I need to live.”

Present Day – Madrid, Spain

Sophia closed the notebook.

The room around her was quiet — blinds drawn, walls covered in newsprint and school rosters. She hadn’t spoken to her real name in over two years. She hadn’t trusted anyone.

Until now.

Because someone at Brentford had cracked the silence.

Because someone — Helena — looked just like her.

And someone had started asking the same questions.

Sophia walked to the window and opened the blinds.

The sun burned gold over the rooftops. A pigeon fluttered past.

She picked up her phone and whispered aloud:

“It’s time to go home.”

Cliffhanger Ending — Chapter Twenty-One

Back at Brentford, in the school’s surveillance center, a monitor lit up with motion.

An AI flagged a facial match.

Sophia Makinde.

But the system didn’t recognize her location.

It marked the match with a blinking red label:

CONFIRMED: Alive. UNKNOWN ORIGIN. RISK LEVEL — SEVERE.

And somewhere deep inside the school's server room, a hidden program activated.

Purge Protocol 2.0 — Engaged.

Madrid, Spain — Present Day

Sophia hadn’t been called by her real name in 965 days.

Her passport said “Sara Mendez.”

Her ID: “Elena Duarte.”

But every morning, when she stood in front of the mirror, the lie cracked a little more.

She brushed her curls behind her ear and studied the small scar under her jaw — a reminder of how far she’d run. The day she left Brentford, she didn’t just leave a school. She left everything.

The first time she heard Helena’s name, it was through a hacked student blog Tessy’s friend Theo ran anonymously. Sophia had monitored Brentford ever since she disappeared. Helena’s photo stopped her cold.

Same jawline. Same stare. Same scholarship program.

They found another me, she thought.

And now that girl was in trouble — the same kind of trouble she’d barely escaped.

Sophia picked up the burner phone and dialed.

It rang three times before someone answered.

A woman’s voice. English. Sharply professional.

“You’re not supposed to call this number.”

Sophia didn’t blink. “They’ve reopened the program.”

A pause. Then, tightly:

“How do you know?”

“Because the girl they replaced me with looks exactly like I did. Because someone leaked a video to destroy her. Because if I wait any longer, she’ll end up like the others.”

The woman cursed softly on the other end. Then:

“If you go back, you’re on your own. You know that, right?”

“I was always on my own,” Sophia said. “But now I’ve got nothing left to lose.”

She hung up.

And began to pack.

Meanwhile — Brentford Academy Surveillance Room

A low hum pulsed from the underground server base — a room most students didn’t even know existed.

The facial recognition software had picked up Sophia’s face from an old Brentford photo, cross-referenced with a tourist camera in Madrid. The system was designed to detect ghosts — students who’d vanished but weren’t supposed to.

Her name flashed again.

SOPHIA MAKINDE — STATUS: ALIVE

A male voice in the dark swore under his breath. He clicked the command prompt.

Initiate: Containment Protocol

Code: “CRIMSON WAKE”

Behind the hum of servers, a second monitor showed another girl’s profile now tagged:

HELENA JAMES — POTENTIAL INFECTED

The machine made no sound.

But someone watching was already picking up the phone.

Back in Madrid — Sophia’s Small Apartment

Sophia zipped her bag shut.

Burned the false ID.

Tucked the old Brentford crest into her passport case — the only thing she’d kept.

She looked at her reflection again.

The girl who had run was gone.

What was left… was ready to fight.

Flashback — The Last Time She Saw Greg

It had rained. She remembered that clearly.

They’d met at the Brentford garden shed — the one behind the tennis courts.

Greg had been soaked. His eyes wild with panic.

“You can’t leave like this, Sophia—someone will come for you.”

Sophia shook her head. “They already have. I’m not safe here. And you won’t be if you keep trying to protect me.”

“Tell me where you’re going.”

“No. Because if they torture you for answers, I don’t want you to have any.”

Greg grabbed her hand, desperate. “I loved you.”

She kissed him then, one last time. Soft. Final.

“Then let me go.”

And she vanished into the storm.

Present Day — Cliffhanger Ending

The plane ticket was booked.

Sophia would be in London by morning.

In the darkness of her Madrid apartment, her email refreshed.

A new message blinked.

From: [e-mail]

Subject: You should’ve stayed gone.

Attachment: Picture of Helena. Standing outside a school gate. Marked. Targeted.

Sophia's heart raced.

She whispered:

“Hold on, Helena. I’m coming.”