Silvia gaped at Aiden as a maelstrom of disturbing emotions churned within her. His predatory scrutiny left her feeling vulnerable and exposed, and the absurdity of the situation only added to her distress.

Despite her racing heart and quivering lips, she feigned ignorance. “Are you blind?”

Aiden’s laughter, mocking and amused, reverberated through the corridor. He casually shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes never leaving her. “I know a girl when I see one.”

“Are you saying I look like a girl?”

“I’m saying you are a girl.”

“Why are you even talking to me? I thought you hated me.”

Aiden’s sly smirk remained firmly in place as he contemplated his words. “Alright, I’ll play along with your little game.” With a wink, he added, “I’ll see you later then, sweetheart.”

As he sauntered away, Silvia remained rooted against the wall, her thoughts racing uncontrollably as she tried to figure out how to salvage her precarious situation.

Principal Cronin emerged from the school office with an air of authority, his steps measured and deliberate. It was at this precise moment that Camila, appearing slightly disorderly from her early morning arrival, crossed paths with Cronin, while stifling a tired yawn as she went about her morning routine.

Cronin, a man of acute perceptiveness, called out to her, “Camila.”

Startled by the unforeseen interruption, Camila halted her steps and approached him with wariness. “Morning, Sir.”

In a surprising turn of conversation, Cronin posed a question that caught her off guard. “Are you friends with Silus?”

Camila, quick on her feet and keenly aware of the situation, waved her hand dismissively. “No way, Sir. Silus isn’t my type of friend.”

Cronin acknowledged her response with a subtle nod, though his expression remained enigmatic, concealing the true depths of his thoughts.

As Camila continued her way towards homeroom, she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. Cronin’s inscrutable poker face left her feeling unsettled, prompting her to keep her guard up and tread carefully in the days ahead.

Silvia found herself standing at the threshold of her first lesson, her anticipation growing as she discovered that it was art class—a subject that seemed entirely out of character for her brother. Silus had always displayed a disinterest in anything school-related, and this sudden departure from his usual character left her both intrigued and bewildered.

Her gaze fell upon his individual art project—a self-portrait drawing taking shape on the canvas. The artwork, bathed in monochromatic shades, exuded an overwhelming sense of melancholy and solitude. Every stroke of the graphite pencil seemed to add depth to the canvas, tracing the contours of a figure shrouded in the mysteries of its own creation. The portrait, though incomplete, radiated an aura of haunting beauty and introspection.

Silvia, recognising the fragility of the artistic process, hesitated to disrupt the delicate balance that Silus had achieved. Her own artistic abilities were modest at best, and she feared that any interference might dilute the raw emotions that flowed from the piece. In the quietude of the art class, the self-portrait whispered of unspoken sorrows and hidden meanings, leaving Silvia both mesmerised and haunted by the enigma of her brother’s artistic desires.

Mrs Lynne, the art teacher, glided over to Silvia. She was an elderly woman, her eyes appearing to have witnessed only the world’s goodness, and her frail appearance evoked a natural instinct to treat her with tenderness. Mrs Lynne was transfixed by the eerie beauty of Silus’ artwork. Her words, laden with a profound sense of understanding, hung in the air like an unspoken truth. “Art, my dear, often possesses a voice that transcends the limitations of words, don’t you think?”

Silvia, uncertain of how to respond given that this wasn’t her creation, merely nodded in agreement, allowing the sentiment to linger between them.

Mrs Lynne continued her contemplation of the drawing, her expression a complex interplay of empathy and admiration. “Silus,” she said, addressing the absent artist, “you possess a rare talent, one that enables you to unveil the depths of your inner self with a sincerity that touches not just my heart but everyone who beholds your work. Keep nurturing this gift, for it has the power to move souls.”

With those sophisticated words, Mrs Lynne discreetly cleared her throat to stifle an impending cough, masking the sound with her hand. She then gracefully drifted away to provide guidance to other students. Silvia was left feeling both intrigued and appreciative that, amidst the complexities of Silus’ life, there existed at least one teacher who could appreciate his unique talents and extend her support.

As soon as second period ended, Silvia moved through the noisy cafeteria, her gaze flitting across the sea of students engrossed in their own conversations and laughter. Her heart yearned for the comforting presence of her best friend, Camila, whose friendship was like a beacon of light in the shadows of her double life.

Finally spotting Camila at a table surrounded by her circle of friends, Silvia’s steps faltered. She hesitated, torn by the stark contrast between their social worlds. Instead of approaching, she remained at a distance, an observer of her own life. She watched as Camila laughed and chatted with her friends, a sense of isolation settling over her.

In that solitary moment, Silvia had a painful realisation—Camila was her only true friend. “I guess Silus isn’t the only loner,” she thought woefully.

As she pondered her situation, Dane, the ever-unpredictable presence, appeared beside her with a suddenness that startled her. She jumped in surprise, her focus snapping back to the present.

Dane, his characteristic nonchalance intact, questioned her, “How did you not notice me?”

“Sorry, I was distracted.”

Dane followed her gaze to Camila’s table, piecing together the puzzle in his mind. A knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Oh, I get it now.”

“Get what?”

In the silence that followed, their eyes locked in a shared understanding, and Dane boldly voiced what he believed to be the truth. “You have a crush on Camila.”

Disbelief washed over Silvia’s face. “What?!”

“It all makes sense now. I didn’t know you had that side to you, Silus.”

With an indignant adjustment of her glasses, Silvia retorted, “Stop making stuff up. I don’t like her.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

Rolling her eyes, Silvia shook her head in slight amusement. “Oh my god, you’ve never changed. You’re still the same idiot.”

Dane chuckled, his easy-going nature undisturbed. “I’ll see you later then.”

As he walked away, Silvia returned her sorrow gaze to Camila and her friends. Loneliness plagued her, and with slumped shoulders, she made the difficult decision to leave the cafeteria. She felt trapped in the complex web of her dual existence—an outsider of her own life.

As the final bell of the school day rang, Silvia made her way towards the school’s exit, her steps carrying a sense of relief. The bustling hallways had been a battlefield of secrets and disguises, and the sanctuary of the outside world beckoned.

Before she could cross the gates to freedom, Camila appeared beside her, concern etched across her features. It was the first time they had crossed paths the entire day, and Camila’s inquisitive nature couldn’t be contained any longer.

Her voice was laced with worry as she inquired, “Where were you all day?”

Silvia’s weariness was evident as she recounted her day’s trials. “I was too busy avoiding Aiden.”

The mention of Aiden’s name sparked a fire in Camila’s eyes. “Why? Was he bothering you?”

“I think he figured out that I’m a girl.”

“What?! Oh, that playboy! You can’t blow your cover already!”

Silvia, unable to maintain eye contact, knew the gravity of the situation. “I can’t think about him right now. I need to go to work. I’ll see you tomorrow, Camila.”

With that, she hurried home, leaving Camila in a state of heightened alertness. She noticed, in her distress, Silvia had addressed her by her real name—an obvious departure from the often-used nickname, Mila.

Silvia’s steps slowed to a melancholic shuffle as she strolled along her familiar route home from school. Her mind was occupied by the day’s turmoil, yet it was a peculiar sight that abruptly seized her attention—a mysterious poster affixed to a weathered telephone pole. The unclear image beckoned to her, and curiosity compelled her to backtrack her steps, her eyes narrowing in on the perplexing poster.

There, etched against the background of fading daylight, she beheld a haunting image—a missing person poster for none other than Silus. The sight sent a chill down her spine, and her heart clenched with a recognition that cut to her very core. It was her own father who had painstakingly placed this poster—his unwavering determination to find his lost son laid bare for the world to see.

Silvia gazed at Silus’ image, her eyes tracing the contours of his face—the rare hint of a smile captured in that frozen moment. Her father had chosen a photograph from three years ago, a time when Silus had still known how to smile—a memory now clouded by the passage of time and the secrets that had torn their family apart.

As she continued her journey home, she encountered a succession of telephone poles, each bearing the same heart-wrenching missing person poster of Silus. The load of her father’s tireless quest to reunite with his child pressed upon her, casting her already sombre mood into an even deeper abyss of despair.