Chapter 2

• The following day at school, I searched for Isabelle everywhere. She wasn’t in the cafeteria, the library, or any of the usual places we secretly met. When the lunch bell rang, I checked my phone again, hoping she had at least sent me a message. Nothing.
• “Looking for someone?”
• That voice.
• I turned sharply, my stomach knotting as I met Andre’s amused gaze. He leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, watching me with a smirk that sent a shiver down my spine.
• “Why are you following me?” I asked, forcing my voice to stay steady.
• “Following you?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, princess, I think you have it all wrong. I was just curious. You seemed so... desperate to find Isabelle.”
• My hands clenched at my sides. “Why do you care?”
• He pushed off the lockers and took a step toward me. “Because, princess, Isabelle isn’t who you think she is.”
• I swallowed hard. “You don’t know anything about her.”
• His smirk widened. “Don’t I?”
• Before I could respond, a teacher’s voice rang through the hallway, calling students back to class. Andre took a step back, but not before lowering his voice just for me to hear. “You should be careful who you trust, Emily.”
• I watched him walk away, my heart pounding. Something about his words stuck with me, gnawing at my already fragile sense of security. What did he mean? Why was he so interested in Isabelle?
• The rest of the day passed in a blur. I kept my head down, hoping to catch a glimpse of Isabelle, but she never showed up. By the time school ended, I couldn’t ignore the sick feeling in my gut. I needed answers.
• I went straight to her house. I had never been inside before—Isabelle always insisted we keep our friendship separate from our personal lives—but this was different. I needed to see her, to make sure she was okay.
• I knocked on the door, waiting. No answer. I knocked again. Still nothing.
• As I turned away, ready to leave, the door suddenly creaked open. An older woman peered out, her eyes tired and sunken. “Yes?”
• “Um… I’m looking for Isabelle,” I said hesitantly.
• Her lips pressed into a thin line. “She’s not here.”
• My stomach twisted. “Do you know when she’ll be back?”
• A long silence stretched between us before she finally spoke. “I don’t think she’ll be coming back.”
• My breath caught. “What? What do you mean?”
• The woman’s eyes flickered with something—grief? Regret? But before I could press for more, she shut the door in my face.
• I stood frozen on the porch, my mind racing. What the hell was going on?
• That night, I couldn’t sleep. I stared at my phone, rereading Isabelle’s last message over and over.
• I’m okay. I will see you tomorrow at school.
• But she hadn’t. And now, it seemed like she never would.
• My thoughts spiraled, running through every conversation we’d ever had, every warning she’d given me, every secret she refused to share. And Andre—what did he know? Why was he suddenly so interested in me?
• Then, as if on cue, my phone buzzed.
• Unknown Number: Still searching for her, princess?
• My breath hitched. My fingers trembled as I typed back.
• Me: Who is this?
• The reply came instantly.
• Unknown Number: You already know.
• My pulse thundered in my ears. Andre.
• I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening on the phone.
• Me: Where is Isabelle? I texted, my heart hammering.
• A pause. Then—
• Unknown Number: You’re asking the wrong question.
• I stared at the screen, my stomach twisting into knots.
• Me: What’s the right question? I hesitated before sending it, unsure if I wanted to know the answer.
• This time, the response took longer.
• Unknown Number: Who is Isabelle?
• A chill ran down my spine. I shut my phone off, throwing it onto the bed like it had burned me.
• Who is Isabelle?
• The question echoed in my mind, looping over and over, refusing to be ignored.
• And for the first time, I realized… I had no idea.
• I barely got any sleep that night. Every sound outside my window made me jump, every vibration of my phone made my breath hitch. I kept expecting another message, another taunt from Andre—but none came. Just silence.
• By morning, exhaustion weighed heavy on my limbs, but the need for answers overpowered the fatigue. I needed to find Isabelle.
• The moment I arrived at school, I went straight to the administration office. “I need to check if a student is still enrolled here,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
• The secretary gave me a bored look before turning to her computer. “Name?”
• “Isabelle. Isabelle Devereux.”
• She typed for a few seconds, then frowned at the screen. “Are you sure you have the right name?”
• My stomach sank. “Yes. Why?”
• “There’s no record of a student by that name.”
• My blood turned to ice. “That’s impossible. She was here just two days ago.”
• The secretary sighed, clearly annoyed. “I don’t know what to tell you, sweetheart. There’s no Isabelle Devereux in our system. Maybe you have the wrong school?”
• I stumbled out of the office, my mind reeling. This didn’t make sense. She had to be in the system. She had to exist.
• “Something wrong, princess?”
• Andre’s voice made me whip around. He stood a few feet away, hands tucked into his pockets, that same infuriating smirk on his face.
• I marched up to him. “What did you do?”
• His smirk didn’t waver. “Now, now. Accusing me without proof? That’s not very smart.”
• “Where is Isabelle?” I demanded, voice shaking.
• He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “I already told you—you’re asking the wrong question.”
• Frustration bubbled up inside me. “Then tell me! What the hell is the right question?”
• His eyes darkened, the amusement fading for the first time. “What did Isabelle do?”
• I took a step back. “What?”
• Andre straightened, his smirk returning. “If you really want answers, Emily, you’d better be prepared for what you’ll find.”
• He turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, cold dread creeping into my bones.
• What did Isabelle do?
• And why did it feel like I was the one about to uncover something I was never meant to know?
• As I turned back toward the hall, my phone vibrated once more.
• Unknown Number: Stop looking. Or you’ll be next.
• A sharp chill crawled up my spine. My grip tightened around my phone, but before I could respond, another text popped up.
• Unknown Number: You have no idea what you’ve stepped into.
• My breath caught in my throat. The school hallway suddenly felt too small, too suffocating.
• Then, one final message.
• Unknown Number: Walk away now, Emily. Before it’s too late.
• My fingers hovered over the keyboard, my pulse hammering. But deep down, I knew one thing for certain.
• It was already too late.