chapter 6 " Ghost of the past "

Certainly! Here is Chapter Six: Ghost of the Past of The Bully Who Fell First, written according to your outline. It blends mystery, tension, and high emotional stakes while keeping all key beats in place.

Chapter Six: Ghost of the Past

Brentford’s halls felt different after the scandal. Eyes followed Helena wherever she went—some curious, others cruel. Whispers flared behind locker doors like sparks on dry grass.

She walked faster, head down, heart heavier than her backpack.

Tessy caught up to her just before lunch. “You okay?”

Helena gave a small nod, though her hands trembled around the strap of her bag.

Tessy leaned in closer. “Can we talk? Somewhere quiet.”

They ended up at the back garden, behind the art block—one of the few places left untouched by gossip.

Tessy looked serious. “There’s something I never told you. About Greg.”

Helena crossed her arms. “Isn’t that the phrase of the year?”

“No, listen. This was before you got here. Back when he was with someone else—Sophia Makinde. She was a scholarship student too. Brilliant. Everyone loved her.”

Helena stilled. The name struck something deep.

Tessy continued. “She and Greg were close. Like, really close. But one day, she just vanished. No goodbye. No explanation. School said her guardians pulled her out. But… no one’s heard from her since.”

Helena’s chest tightened. “What kind of scandal?”

“No one knows exactly. But there were rumors. Something happened between her and Greg. Some say it got… serious. Others say it turned ugly. The week before she disappeared, she cried during assembly. Like she was scared of something.”

Helena swallowed hard. “Do you think he had something to do with it?”

“I don’t know,” Tessy admitted. “But ever since you came, and especially after that video—he’s been acting different. And you… you look a lot like her.”

Helena’s blood turned cold.

That evening, Tessy followed her instincts.

After school, she stayed behind and watched Helena from a distance. When Helena caught a cab toward the east side, Tessy quietly got into her own car and followed.

It led her to Silver Ridge Drive.

To the Carter estate.

To Greg.

Tessy’s chest filled with unease.

Inside the Carter house, Helena stood in the marble hallway again, wringing her hands.

Greg leaned against the stair rail, arms folded. “You came back.”

“I need answers,” Helena said. “About Sophia.”

His expression shifted.

“You knew her,” she said. “You cared about her. What happened to her, Greg?”

Greg looked away. “That’s not something you should dig into.”

“Why? Because she’s gone or because someone made her disappear?”

He stepped closer, tension rising in his shoulders. “Stop asking questions that could ruin you.”

“And you’re still ruining me anyway,” she whispered.

Before he could respond, footsteps echoed from the entryway. The door creaked.

Bianca’s voice floated through the hall. “Greg?”

Helena’s breath hitched.

Greg turned—fast—and before she could react, he grabbed her by the waist and kissed her.

Hard. Desperate. Silencing.

Helena froze.

The front door swung open.

Bianca stood there, stunned.

Her mouth dropped open as she took in the scene—Greg’s hand in Helena’s hair, Helena wide-eyed and breathless against his chest.

The moment stretched.

Bianca’s eyes narrowed. Her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.

“You son of a—”

And she turned and stormed out.

Helena pulled away from Greg, dazed and breathless.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded.

Greg’s eyes were unreadable. “Damage control.”

But Helena wasn’t sure who he was trying to protect anymore—her, himself… or a secret buried so deep it was now starting to claw its way out.

Cliffhanger Ending:

Outside, Bianca’s heels clicked like gunfire against the pavement.

She pulled out her phone, eyes burning.

She wasn’t just going to watch this unfold.

She was going to burn them both.

Helena backed away from Greg, heart still thudding from the kiss—but not because of desire.

Because of confusion.

“You kissed me to shut me up?” she asked, breathless.

Greg didn’t answer. His jaw was clenched, his eyes dark. That guarded look was back—the one that shut everyone out. But it was different now. Desperate. Cornered.

“You could’ve just lied,” she whispered. “You didn’t have to use me.”

“I wasn’t using you,” Greg said. “Bianca can’t know what you were asking.”

“You think she doesn’t now? She saw everything.”

Greg ran a hand through his hair, pacing across the hall. “You don’t get it, Helena. She’s not just jealous. She’s dangerous. Her father’s one of the board’s biggest donors. She’s got influence. Leverage. People in this school… they’ll believe her before they ever believe you.”

“So what? You just threw me under the bus so she wouldn’t look deeper into you and Sophia?” she snapped.

Greg’s eyes locked with hers. “This isn’t about Sophia.”

“Yes,” Helena said, stepping closer, “it is. Everything about you changed the moment I asked about her. You froze. You panicked. You kissed me.”

The silence between them stretched.

Then Greg exhaled, slow and shaky. “She was the only person who ever really saw me… and she vanished. Overnight. And no one—no one—talks about it. Because if they do, bad things happen.”

Helena’s voice dropped. “What kind of bad things?”

But before he could answer, a notification buzzed on her phone.

She glanced down.

A screenshot.

A still image—blurry, grainy—but unmistakably her and Greg, locked in that kiss.

Sent from Unknown Number.

Followed by a message:

“History repeats itself, Helena. Let’s see how far you’re willing to fall.”

She looked up, throat dry.

Greg was staring at his phone too.

Same message.

Same image.

And that same chilling signature.

Unknown Number.

“Bianca,” Helena whispered. “She’s the one sending this.”

Greg shook his head slowly. “No. Bianca wouldn’t send it anonymously. She’d want credit.”

Helena’s stomach twisted.

“Then who is it?”

Before Greg could answer, a knock thundered at the door.

Three quick, deliberate pounds.

They both jumped.

Greg approached the door cautiously and opened it to reveal a delivery guy holding a sleek envelope.

“For Helena James,” the guy said.

Greg took it.

The man disappeared before they could ask questions.

Helena opened the envelope with trembling fingers.

Inside was a single photograph.

A print of the screenshot.

Underneath it, a handwritten note in thick black ink:

“You’re already in the game. Might as well learn the rules.”

Helena dropped the envelope like it burned her fingers.

Greg looked at her. “They’re not just watching us, Helena… They’re playing us.”

And for the first time, Helena saw it too.

This wasn’t just about revenge. Or even Greg’s past.

This was something else.

Planned.

Personal.

And dangerous.