The morning came too soon.

Sunlight pressed through the curtains as if the world didn’t know what had changed.

Flora stood before the mirror, tying her hair, her reflection calm—almost convincing.

If she looked steady enough, maybe the rest of her would believe it too.

The uniform felt heavier today.

Not because it had changed, but because she had.

---

At school, life moved on as if nothing had happened.

The chatter in the corridors, the scrape of shoes on the polished floor, the laughter she used to recognize from miles away—all of it blurred into a single, indifferent hum.

Austin was already there when she walked in.

Grace stood beside him, laughter soft, effortless.

They looked like a perfect picture, the kind people frame and pretend is love.

Someone whispered near the lockers. “He finally told her, right?”

Another voice followed, lower, pitying. “Poor Campbell girl… she must’ve seen it coming.”

Flora kept walking.

She didn’t stop, didn’t turn.

Not because she didn’t hear them, but because she’d already decided not to give anyone the satisfaction of watching her break.

By lunch, her quietness had become a kind of rumor of its own.

People mistook calm for weakness, as they often did.

But she knew better now.

Silence wasn’t surrender—it was armor.

---

She skipped the crowded cafeteria and went to the art room instead.

Dust floated in thin lines of sunlight; the faint smell of paint and old wood filled the air.

Her hand brushed across the desk, where sketches from weeks ago still sat—unfinished shapes of things she no longer recognized.

She sat down, picked up a pencil, and began to draw.

Not faces. Not memories.

Just lines. Sharp, deliberate.

Each one steadier than the last.

Somewhere behind her, the hallway creaked.

A door shut.

Flora looked up, expecting someone, but there was no one there.

Only the soft hum of the lights, and the whisper of leaves brushing against the windowpane.

She let out a small breath and smiled to herself.

“Jumping at shadows now,” she murmured, turning back to her paper.

But if she had turned around again,

she might have noticed the faint reflection in the glass—

a figure standing just out of sight, watching quietly from the corridor.

---

Flora thought endings were simple.

One message, one goodbye, and everything would finally be over.

She didn’t know that some people don’t let go just because you say it’s time

that the past watches, waits,

and sometimes wears a familiar face.

Note:

🌙 Thank you for reading!

This episode marks the quiet turning point of Flora’s story, the last calm before the shadow begins to follow her.

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