Jessa arrived at school on Monday morning at 8:30, as usual. But instead of the familiar bustle in the foyer and the everyday sight of students wandering around into the cafeteria or the library or their tutor rooms, there was an unfamiliar stillness. Mrs Pacey was away from her usual position at the reception desk and instead was meeting students at the door with an instruction to head straight to the hall.

Jessa felt a churn in her stomach. Something was wrong.

Some schools held daily assemblies in the morning before lessons began, which was the case at Jessa’s middle school, but at Winsbury, the students had registration in the morning with their tutor, where they received any news bulletins or important updates. This made school-wide assemblies rare. So it was obvious to the students that if Dr Mortlock had summoned them to a full school assembly, it could only be in regards to something very good, or very bad.

Dr Mortlock sat, upright and prim, on the padded purple leather of her throne, looking out over the hall of students. Jessa shuffled sideways down the row to the seat that Maggie and Flynn had kept empty for her.

“What’s going on? Did you hear anything before I got here?” she said.

“No, nobody’s told us anything,” Maggie replied. “We’ve noticed some of the teachers talking to each other, though. We couldn’t hear what they said, but they all look really worried.

“I’ve never seen Dr Mortlock look like that before. Man, she’s terrifying,” Jessa whispered.

“She looks upset to me,” said Maggie. “And, even weirder, I don’t think she’s moved an inch the whole time we’ve been here. She’s been just up there watching everyone.”

When Dr Mortlock stood to her feet, the scuffling and the muttering and the speculating ceased, and the hall fell into silence. When she spoke, her hushed voice commanded an even deeper quiet.

There was no “good morning.” No “thank you for joining me.”

“I’m afraid a tragedy has occurred,” she began. “This weekend, our Head Girl, Emmeline Victor, was reported missing.”

The hall burst into a hubbub. Many students gasped, and a couple of girls whimpered into tears.

Jessa didn’t know Emmeline personally, but everyone knew of the Head Girl’s stature in the school. Emmeline had been an impressive student since her first year. She consistently achieved top grades, partook in a record amount of clubs, and in her third year initiated and developed The Winsbury Times, an online newspaper that was not only one of the most notable and reliable youth news sources on the internet, but also provided an engaging and sometimes irreverent review of student life, enjoyed by students all over the United Kingdom, and possibly even further.

“Quiet please,” Dr Mortlock continued. Again, the room hushed.

“Emmeline was last seen leaving school on Friday, but she never made it home. Her disappearance will be reported publicly later today, but we wanted you all to hear first so you can prepare yourselves for any potential backlash. Considering Emmeline’s standing in this school and her notable online presence, we are anticipating an increased interest in Winsbury.

If any member of the press approaches you, it is important that you do not engage them, but to direct them to contact the staff here. We are happy to cooperate by answering their questions.

I am imploring you to exercise extreme caution. We do not know the circumstances of Emmeline’s disappearance, and the safety of our students is paramount. A security service is being implemented, who will be stationed outside the school. If you see anyone near the school that you do not recognise or who is not a uniformed officer, do not approach them, but come inside and report it to a member of staff immediately. Scheduled lessons will continue as normal.”

Jessa had heard about missing children before, on the news, but it always happened so far away to people she didn’t know. She’d seen footage of parents distraught over lost children, begging for their safe return. She looked around the hall to see students crying, comforting one another. Others in a desperate chatter about what could possibly have happened. This was not a distant news story. Winsbury had been shaken.