Writers 
Chapter Four: The Photograph
Your mother left something here.
Amara could not stop thinking about those words.
She sat on her bed that evening, staring at the old photograph Victoria had given her. She had hidden it inside one of her schoolbooks before leaving Brightfield Academy.
She turned the photograph over.
Nothing was written on the back.
No date.
No names.
Nothing that could explain why her mother had been standing among the students in front of Brightfield Academy.
Amara studied her mother's younger face.
There was no doubt.
It was her.
The same eyes.
The same small smile.
The same tiny mark near her left eyebrow.
Amara's hands tightened around the photograph.
Why had her mother lied?
She picked up her phone and thought about calling her.
But what would she say?
Mum, did you attend Brightfield Academy?
She knew her mother would ask where she had found the photograph.
And then she would have to explain everything.
The note.
Victoria.
The old library.
The envelope.
Amara wasn't ready for that.
She placed the photograph back inside her book.
The next morning, she arrived at school earlier than usual.
She wanted answers.
As soon as she entered SS2B, she noticed Ada sitting at her desk.
“Good morning,” Ada said.
“Morning.”
Ada looked at her carefully.
“You seem worried.”
“I'm fine.”
“You said that yesterday too.”
Amara forced a smile.
“Maybe I'm just tired.”
Ada didn't look convinced, but she didn't ask again.
Amara sat down and waited for the first lesson.
Her eyes kept moving toward the classroom door.
She was waiting for Victoria.
But Victoria never came.
During break, Amara searched for her around the school.
She checked the hallway near the old library.
She checked the courtyard.
She even asked a student if she had seen Victoria.
Nobody knew where she was.
Then Amara remembered something.
The photograph.
She returned to the classroom and took it out.
There had to be something she was missing.
She examined every person in the picture.
There were about fifteen students.
Behind them stood the old school building.
Amara looked closely at the building.
One window had a strange symbol carved beneath it.
It looked like a small circle with a line through the middle.
She had seen that symbol before.
On the envelope.
Amara quickly searched her bag.
The envelope was still there.
She compared the symbol.
It was exactly the same.
Her heart raced.
The symbol was a clue.
But a clue to what?
She turned the photograph over again.
This time, she noticed something beneath the edge of the paper.
A tiny piece of writing had been hidden near the bottom.
Amara moved closer to the window so she could see it clearly.
There were four words.
Room 12. Second floor.
Amara stared at the message.
Room 12.
She knew where that was.
The second floor contained some of the older classrooms.
But why would her mother leave a message in an old photograph?
And why had someone wanted her to find it?
Amara waited until the end of the lesson.
When the teacher left, she slipped out of the classroom.
She climbed the stairs to the second floor.
The hallway was almost empty.
She walked slowly past several classrooms.
10.
11.
Then she stopped.
12.
The door was closed.
Amara looked around before opening it.
The classroom was empty.
Old desks were stacked against one wall, and several dusty boxes sat near the back.
She stepped inside.
There was something strange about the room.
It looked as if nobody had used it for years.
Amara began searching carefully.
She checked the shelves.
Nothing.
She looked beneath the desks.
Nothing.
Then she noticed a small wooden cabinet in the corner.
One of its drawers was slightly open.
Amara pulled it out.
Inside was a thin notebook covered in dust.
She opened it.
The first page was blank.
The second page had a list of names.
Amara read them one by one.
Then she saw a familiar name.
Her mother.
Mrs. Elena—
Amara stopped.
The rest of the name had been scratched out.
She turned the page.
There was another message.
Some secrets are kept to protect people. Others are kept because someone is afraid the truth will be discovered.
Amara swallowed.
She turned another page.
A photograph fell out.
This one was different.
It showed her mother standing beside another girl.
Amara recognized the girl immediately.
Victoria.
Amara stared at the photograph in disbelief.
Her mother and Victoria's younger-looking relative—or perhaps someone who looked exactly like Victoria—were standing together outside Brightfield Academy.
On the back were three words.
Ask about the room.
Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside.
Amara quickly closed the notebook.
Someone was coming.
She slipped the notebook into her bag and hid behind the classroom door.
The footsteps stopped.
Silence filled the room.
Then the door slowly opened.
Amara held her breath.
A figure stepped inside.
She couldn't see the person's face.
The figure walked toward the cabinet.
Then stopped.
Amara realized something terrifying.
The person wasn't looking for her.
They were looking for the notebook.
The footsteps moved closer.
Amara quietly stepped backward.
Her hand touched the doorknob.
The figure suddenly turned.
“Who's there?”
Amara opened the door and ran.
She raced down the hallway without looking back.
The notebook was safely inside her bag.
But now she knew something important.
Her mother had a connection to Brightfield Academy.
Victoria had a connChapter Four: The Photograph
Your mother left something here.
Amara could not stop thinking about those words.
She sat on her bed that evening, staring at the old photograph Victoria had given her. She had hidden it inside one of her schoolbooks before leaving Brightfield Academy.
She turned the photograph over.
Nothing was written on the back.
No date.
No names.
Nothing that could explain why her mother had been standing among the students in front of Brightfield Academy.
Amara studied her mother's younger face.
There was no doubt.
It was her.
The same eyes.
The same small smile.
The same tiny mark near her left eyebrow.
Amara's hands tightened around the photograph.
Why had her mother lied?
She picked up her phone and thought about calling her.
But what would she say?
Mum, did you attend Brightfield Academy?
She knew her mother would ask where she had found the photograph.
And then she would have to explain everything.
The note.
Victoria.
The old library.
The envelope.
Amara wasn't ready for that.
She placed the photograph back inside her book.
The next morning, she arrived at school earlier than usual.
She wanted answers.
As soon as she entered SS2B, she noticed Ada sitting at her desk.
“Good morning,” Ada said.
“Morning.”
Ada looked at her carefully.
“You seem worried.”
“I'm fine.”
“You said that yesterday too.”
Amara forced a smile.
“Maybe I'm just tired.”
Ada didn't look convinced, but she didn't ask again.
Amara sat down and waited for the first lesson.
Her eyes kept moving toward the classroom door.
She was waiting for Victoria.
But Victoria never came.
During break, Amara searched for her around the school.
She checked the hallway near the old library.
She checked the courtyard.
She even asked a student if she had seen Victoria.
Nobody knew where she was.
Then Amara remembered something.
The photograph.
She returned to the classroom and took it out.
There had to be something she was missing.
She examined every person in the picture.
There were about fifteen students.
Behind them stood the old school building.
Amara looked closely at the building.
One window had a strange symbol carved beneath it.
It looked like a small circle with a line through the middle.
She had seen that symbol before.
On the envelope.
Amara quickly searched her bag.
The envelope was still there.
She compared the symbol.
It was exactly the same.
Her heart raced.
The symbol was a clue.
But a clue to what?
She turned the photograph over again.
This time, she noticed something beneath the edge of the paper.
A tiny piece of writing had been hidden near the bottom.
Amara moved closer to the window so she could see it clearly.
There were four words.
Room 12. Second floor.
Amara stared at the message.
Room 12.
She knew where that was.
The second floor contained some of the older classrooms.
But why would her mother leave a message in an old photograph?
And why had someone wanted her to find it?
Amara waited until the end of the lesson.
When the teacher left, she slipped out of the classroom.
She climbed the stairs to the second floor.
The hallway was almost empty.
She walked slowly past several classrooms.
10.
11.
Then she stopped.
12.
The door was closed.
Amara looked around before opening it.
The classroom was empty.
Old desks were stacked against one wall, and several dusty boxes sat near the back.
She stepped inside.
There was something strange about the room.
It looked as if nobody had used it for years.
Amara began searching carefully.
She checked the shelves.
Nothing.
She looked beneath the desks.
Nothing.
Then she noticed a small wooden cabinet in the corner.
One of its drawers was slightly open.
Amara pulled it out.
Inside was a thin notebook covered in dust.
She opened it.
The first page was blank.
The second page had a list of names.
Amara read them one by one.
Then she saw a familiar name.
Her mother.
Mrs. Elena—
Amara stopped.
The rest of the name had been scratched out.
She turned the page.
There was another message.
Some secrets are kept to protect people. Others are kept because someone is afraid the truth will be discovered.
Amara swallowed.
She turned another page.
A photograph fell out.
This one was different.
It showed her mother standing beside another girl.
Amara recognized the girl immediately.
Victoria.
Amara stared at the photograph in disbelief.
Her mother and Victoria's younger-looking relative—or perhaps someone who looked exactly like Victoria—were standing together outside Brightfield Academy.
On the back were three words.
Ask about the room.
Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside.
Amara quickly closed the notebook.
Someone was coming.
She slipped the notebook into her bag and hid behind the classroom door.
The footsteps stopped.
Silence filled the room.
Then the door slowly opened.
Amara held her breath.
A figure stepped inside.
She couldn't see the person's face.
The figure walked toward the cabinet.
Then stopped.
Amara realized something terrifying.
The person wasn't looking for her.
They were looking for the notebook.
The footsteps moved closer.
Amara quietly stepped backward.
Her hand touched the doorknob.
The figure suddenly turned.
“Who's there?”
Amara opened the door and ran.
She raced down the hallway without looking back.
The notebook was safely inside her bag.
But now she knew something important.
Her mother had a connection to Brightfield Academy.
Victoria had a connChapter Four: The Photograph
Your mother left something here.
Amara could not stop thinking about those words.
She sat on her bed that evening, staring at the old photograph Victoria had given her. She had hidden it inside one of her schoolbooks before leaving Brightfield Academy.
She turned the photograph over.
Nothing was written on the back.
No date.
No names.
Nothing that could explain why her mother had been standing among the students in front of Brightfield Academy.
Amara studied her mother's younger face.
There was no doubt.
It was her.
The same eyes.
The same small smile.
The same tiny mark near her left eyebrow.
Amara's hands tightened around the photograph.
Why had her mother lied?
She picked up her phone and thought about calling her.
But what would she say?
Mum, did you attend Brightfield Academy?
She knew her mother would ask where she had found the photograph.
And then she would have to explain everything.
The note.
Victoria.
The old library.
The envelope.
Amara wasn't ready for that.
She placed the photograph back inside her book.
The next morning, she arrived at school earlier than usual.
She wanted answers.
As soon as she entered SS2B, she noticed Ada sitting at her desk.
“Good morning,” Ada said.
“Morning.”
Ada looked at her carefully.
“You seem worried.”
“I'm fine.”
“You said that yesterday too.”
Amara forced a smile.
“Maybe I'm just tired.”
Ada didn't look convinced, but she didn't ask again.
Amara sat down and waited for the first lesson.
Her eyes kept moving toward the classroom door.
She was waiting for Victoria.
But Victoria never came.
During break, Amara searched for her around the school.
She checked the hallway near the old library.
She checked the courtyard.
She even asked a student if she had seen Victoria.
Nobody knew where she was.
Then Amara remembered something.
The photograph.
She returned to the classroom and took it out.
There had to be something she was missing.
She examined every person in the picture.
There were about fifteen students.
Behind them stood the old school building.
Amara looked closely at the building.
One window had a strange symbol carved beneath it.
It looked like a small circle with a line through the middle.
She had seen that symbol before.
On the envelope.
Amara quickly searched her bag.
The envelope was still there.
She compared the symbol.
It was exactly the same.
Her heart raced.
The symbol was a clue.
But a clue to what?
She turned the photograph over again.
This time, she noticed something beneath the edge of the paper.
A tiny piece of writing had been hidden near the bottom.
Amara moved closer to the window so she could see it clearly.
There were four words.
Room 12. Second floor.
Amara stared at the message.
Room 12.
She knew where that was.
The second floor contained some of the older classrooms.
But why would her mother leave a message in an old photograph?
And why had someone wanted her to find it?
Amara waited until the end of the lesson.
When the teacher left, she slipped out of the classroom.
She climbed the stairs to the second floor.
The hallway was almost empty.
She walked slowly past several classrooms.
10.
11.
Then she stopped.
12.
The door was closed.
Amara looked around before opening it.
The classroom was empty.
Old desks were stacked against one wall, and several dusty boxes sat near the back.
She stepped inside.
There was something strange about the room.
It looked as if nobody had used it for years.
Amara began searching carefully.
She checked the shelves.
Nothing.
She looked beneath the desks.
Nothing.
Then she noticed a small wooden cabinet in the corner.
One of its drawers was slightly open.
Amara pulled it out.
Inside was a thin notebook covered in dust.
She opened it.
The first page was blank.
The second page had a list of names.
Amara read them one by one.
Then she saw a familiar name.
Her mother.
Mrs. Elena—
Amara stopped.
The rest of the name had been scratched out.
She turned the page.
There was another message.
Some secrets are kept to protect people. Others are kept because someone is afraid the truth will be discovered.
Amara swallowed.
She turned another page.
A photograph fell out.
This one was different.
It showed her mother standing beside another girl.
Amara recognized the girl immediately.
Victoria.
Amara stared at the photograph in disbelief.
Her mother and Victoria's younger-looking relative—or perhaps someone who looked exactly like Victoria—were standing together outside Brightfield Academy.
On the back were three words.
Ask about the room.
Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside.
Amara quickly closed the notebook.
Someone was coming.
She slipped the notebook into her bag and hid behind the classroom door.
The footsteps stopped.
Silence filled the room.
Then the door slowly opened.
Amara held her breath.
A figure stepped inside.
She couldn't see the person's face.
The figure walked toward the cabinet.
Then stopped.
Amara realized something terrifying.
The person wasn't looking for her.
They were looking for the notebook.
The footsteps moved closer.
Amara quietly stepped backward.
Her hand touched the doorknob.
The figure suddenly turned.
“Who's there?”
Amara opened the door and ran.
She raced down the hallway without looking back.
The notebook was safely inside her bag.
But now she knew something important.
Her mother had a connection to Brightfield Academy.
Victoria had a connection to her mother.
And someone was desperate to find the notebook before Amara discovered what it contained.
As Amara reached the stairs, she looked back.
The figure was standing at the classroom doorway.
Watching her.
And this time, Amara recognized the voice.
It was someone she had already met.ection to her mother.
And someone was desperate to find the notebook before Amara discovered what it contained.
Chapter Four: The Photograph
Your mother left something here.
Amara could not stop thinking about those words.
She sat on her bed that evening, staring at the old photograph Victoria had given her. She had hidden it inside one of her schoolbooks before leaving Brightfield Academy.
She turned the photograph over.
Nothing was written on the back.
No date.
No names.
Nothing that could explain why her mother had been standing among the students in front of Brightfield Academy.
Amara studied her mother's younger face.
There was no doubt.
It was her.
The same eyes.
The same small smile.
The same tiny mark near her left eyebrow.
Amara's hands tightened around the photograph.
Why had her mother lied?
She picked up her phone and thought about calling her.
But what would she say?
Mum, did you attend Brightfield Academy?
She knew her mother would ask where she had found the photograph.
And then she would have to explain everything.
The note.
Victoria.
The old library.
The envelope.
Amara wasn't ready for that.
She placed the photograph back inside her book.
The next morning, she arrived at school earlier than usual.
She wanted answers.
As soon as she entered SS2B, she noticed Ada sitting at her desk.
“Good morning,” Ada said.
“Morning.”
Ada looked at her carefully.
“You seem worried.”
“I'm fine.”
“You said that yesterday too.”
Amara forced a smile.
“Maybe I'm just tired.”
Ada didn't look convinced, but she didn't ask again.
Amara sat down and waited for the first lesson.
Her eyes kept moving toward the classroom door.
She was waiting for Victoria.
But Victoria never came.
During break, Amara searched for her around the school.
She checked the hallway near the old library.
She checked the courtyard.
She even asked a student if she had seen Victoria.
Nobody knew where she was.
Then Amara remembered something.
The photograph.
She returned to the classroom and took it out.
There had to be something she was missing.
She examined every person in the picture.
There were about fifteen students.
Behind them stood the old school building.
Amara looked closely at the building.
One window had a strange symbol carved beneath it.
It looked like a small circle with a line through the middle.
She had seen that symbol before.
On the envelope.
Amara quickly searched her bag.
The envelope was still there.
She compared the symbol.
It was exactly the same.
Her heart raced.
The symbol was a clue.
But a clue to what?
She turned the photograph over again.
This time, she noticed something beneath the edge of the paper.
A tiny piece of writing had been hidden near the bottom.
Amara moved closer to the window so she could see it clearly.
There were four words.
Room 12. Second floor.
Amara stared at the message.
Room 12.
She knew where that was.
The second floor contained some of the older classrooms.
But why would her mother leave a message in an old photograph?
And why had someone wanted her to find it?
Amara waited until the end of the lesson.
When the teacher left, she slipped out of the classroom.
She climbed the stairs to the second floor.
The hallway was almost empty.
She walked slowly past several classrooms.
10.
11.
Then she stopped.
12.
The door was closed.
Amara looked around before opening it.
The classroom was empty.
Old desks were stacked against one wall, and several dusty boxes sat near the back.
She stepped inside.
There was something strange about the room.
It looked as if nobody had used it for years.
Amara began searching carefully.
She checked the shelves.
Nothing.
She looked beneath the desks.
Nothing.
Then she noticed a small wooden cabinet in the corner.
One of its drawers was slightly open.
Amara pulled it out.
Inside was a thin notebook covered in dust.
She opened it.
The first page was blank.
The second page had a list of names.
Amara read them one by one.
Then she saw a familiar name.
Her mother.
Mrs. Elena—
Amara stopped.
The rest of the name had been scratched out.
She turned the page.
There was another message.
Some secrets are kept to protect people. Others are kept because someone is afraid the truth will be discovered.
Amara swallowed.
She turned another page.
A photograph fell out.
This one was different.
It showed her mother standing beside another girl.
Amara recognized the girl immediately.
Victoria.
Amara stared at the photograph in disbelief.
Her mother and Victoria's younger-looking relative—or perhaps someone who looked exactly like Victoria—were standing together outside Brightfield Academy.
On the back were three words.
Ask about the room.
Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside.
Amara quickly closed the notebook.
Someone was coming.
She slipped the notebook into her bag and hid behind the classroom door.
The footsteps stopped.
Silence filled the room.
Then the door slowly opened.
Amara held her breath.
A figure stepped inside.
She couldn't see the person's face.
The figure walked toward the cabinet.
Then stopped.
Amara realized something terrifying.
The person wasn't looking for her.
They were looking for the notebook.
The footsteps moved closer.
Amara quietly stepped backward.
Her hand touched the doorknob.
The figure suddenly turned.
“Who's there?”
Amara opened the door and ran.
She raced down the hallway without looking back.
The notebook was safely inside her bag.
But now she knew something important.
Her mother had a connection to Brightfield Academy.
Victoria had a connection to her mother.
And someone was desperate to find the notebook before Amara discovered what it contained.
As Amara reached the stairs, she looked back.
The figure was standing at the classroom doorway.
Watching her.
And this time, Amara recognized the voice.
It was someone she had already met. Amara reached the stairs, she looked back.
The figure was standing at the classroom doorway.
Watching her.
And this time, Amara recognized the voice.
It was someone she had already met.ection to her mother.
And someone was desperate to find the notebook before Amara discovered what it contained.
As Amara reached the stairs, she looked back.
The figure was standing at the classroom doorway.
Watching her.
And this time, Amara recognized the voice.
It was someone she had already met.
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