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Chapter Two: The Girl by the Window
What did they know?
The question followed Amara all the way back to her classroom.
She slipped the folded note deeper into her backpack before entering SS2B. She didn't want anyone to see it, especially after what had happened in the hallway.
Amara took her seat and tried to act normal.
Around her, students were talking about their first lessons of the day. Some were comparing timetables while others complained about the early morning assembly.
Amara barely heard them.
Her mind was still on the mysterious figure.
Who had been standing at the end of the hallway?
And why had they disappeared so quickly?
“Are you new here?”
Amara looked up.
A girl was standing beside her desk. She had two books in her hands and a friendly smile.
“Yes,” Amara replied.
“I’m Ada.”
“Amara.”
Ada pulled out the chair beside her.
“Can I sit here?”
Amara nodded.
“Sure.”
Ada sat down and opened one of her books.
“You came today, right?”
“Yes. Today is my first day.”
“I thought so. I haven't seen you before.”
Amara smiled slightly.
She wanted to ask Ada about the school, but she remembered her mother's warning.
Don't ask questions about the past.
So instead, she asked, “Do you like this school?”
Ada laughed softly.
“Most of the time.”
“What does that mean?”
Ada looked around before answering.
“Brightfield is a good school. But there are some strange things about it.”
Amara's heart beat faster.
“Strange things?”
Ada shrugged.
“Nothing serious. Just stories students tell.”
“What kind of stories?”
Before Ada could answer, the classroom door opened.
Their teacher walked in.
“Good morning, class.”
“Good morning, ma.”
The students quickly settled down.
Amara opened her notebook, but she couldn't concentrate.
Strange things.
The words stayed in her mind.
During the lesson, she glanced toward the windows.
That was when she saw her.
A girl stood outside the classroom near the corridor.
She was wearing the same school uniform as everyone else, but she wasn't talking to anyone.
She was simply watching Amara.
Their eyes met.
The girl didn't look away.
Amara's stomach tightened.
It was the same feeling she had experienced in the hallway.
Someone knew something.
Amara quickly looked down at her notebook.
When she looked again, the girl was gone.
“Amara?”
She jumped.
The teacher was standing beside her desk.
“Yes, ma?”
“Are you following the lesson?”
“Yes, ma.”
The teacher nodded and continued.
Ada leaned closer.
“Are you okay?”
“I'm fine.”
Ada glanced toward the window.
“Were you looking at Victoria?”
“Victoria?”
“Yes. The girl who was standing outside.”
Amara hesitated.
“You know her?”
“Everyone knows Victoria.”
“Why?”
Ada lowered her voice.
“She doesn't talk much.”
Amara looked at her.
“That's all?”
Ada shook her head.
“People say she knows a lot about the school.”
Amara's heart skipped.
“What do you mean?”
“I don't know. She's been here for years. She knows things most students don't.”
Amara thought about the note in her backpack.
I know why you're here.
Could Victoria have written it?
The thought made her uneasy.
At break time, Amara waited until most of the students had left before checking her backpack.
The note was still there.
She unfolded it carefully.
The five words stared back at her.
I know why you're here.
Amara turned the paper over.
Nothing.
She checked the edges.
Nothing.
Then she noticed something she hadn't seen before.
There was a tiny mark in the bottom corner.
It looked like the number 27.
Locker 27.
Amara's eyes widened.
The note had been placed in Locker 27 for a reason.
She quickly folded it again.
“Looking for something?”
Amara froze.
She turned around.
Victoria was standing near the classroom door.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.
Victoria's eyes moved to the note in Amara's hand.
Then she looked back at Amara.
“You shouldn't have opened that locker,” Victoria said quietly.
Amara stood up.
“How do you know about the locker?”
Victoria didn't answer.
Instead, she stepped closer.
“You need to be careful.”
“Why?”
Victoria looked toward the hallway.
“Because some questions are better left unanswered.”
Amara's heart pounded.
“My mother said the same thing.”
Victoria's expression changed.
“Your mother?”
Amara nodded.
“She told me not to ask questions about the past.”
Victoria stared at her for a moment.
Then she whispered, “Then she knows.”
“Knows what?”
Before Victoria could answer, the bell rang.
Students began returning to the classroom.
Victoria immediately stepped away.
“Wait!” Amara called.
But Victoria was already walking down the hallway.
Amara followed her to the doorway.
“Victoria!”
The girl stopped.
She looked back.
“If you really want to know why you're here,” she said, “look for the old library.”
Amara stared at her.
“The old library?”
Victoria nodded.
“But don't go there during school hours.”
Then she disappeared into the crowd.
Amara stood there, confused.
The old library.
Another secret.
She slowly returned to her seat.
There was something about Brightfield Academy that everyone seemed to know except her.
And now she was beginning to wonder whether her mother had sent her to the school for a reason she had never been told.
Amara opened heChapter Two: The Girl by the Window
What did they know?
The question followed Amara all the way back to her classroom.
She slipped the folded note deeper into her backpack before entering SS2B. She didn't want anyone to see it, especially after what had happened in the hallway.
Amara took her seat and tried to act normal.
Around her, students were talking about their first lessons of the day. Some were comparing timetables while others complained about the early morning assembly.
Amara barely heard them.
Her mind was still on the mysterious figure.
Who had been standing at the end of the hallway?
And why had they disappeared so quickly?
“Are you new here?”
Amara looked up.
A girl was standing beside her desk. She had two books in her hands and a friendly smile.
“Yes,” Amara replied.
“I’m Ada.”
“Amara.”
Ada pulled out the chair beside her.
“Can I sit here?”
Amara nodded.
“Sure.”
Ada sat down and opened one of her books.
“You came today, right?”
“Yes. Today is my first day.”
“I thought so. I haven't seen you before.”
Amara smiled slightly.
She wanted to ask Ada about the school, but she remembered her mother's warning.
Don't ask questions about the past.
So instead, she asked, “Do you like this school?”
Ada laughed softly.
“Most of the time.”
“What does that mean?”
Ada looked around before answering.
“Brightfield is a good school. But there are some strange things about it.”
Amara's heart beat faster.
“Strange things?”
Ada shrugged.
“Nothing serious. Just stories students tell.”
“What kind of stories?”
Before Ada could answer, the classroom door opened.
Their teacher walked in.
“Good morning, class.”
“Good morning, ma.”
The students quickly settled down.
Amara opened her notebook, but she couldn't concentrate.
Strange things.
The words stayed in her mind.
During the lesson, she glanced toward the windows.
That was when she saw her.
A girl stood outside the classroom near the corridor.
She was wearing the same school uniform as everyone else, but she wasn't talking to anyone.
She was simply watching Amara.
Their eyes met.
The girl didn't look away.
Amara's stomach tightened.
It was the same feeling she had experienced in the hallway.
Someone knew something.
Amara quickly looked down at her notebook.
When she looked again, the girl was gone.
“Amara?”
She jumped.
The teacher was standing beside her desk.
“Yes, ma?”
“Are you following the lesson?”
“Yes, ma.”
The teacher nodded and continued.
Ada leaned closer.
“Are you okay?”
“I'm fine.”
Ada glanced toward the window.
“Were you looking at Victoria?”
“Victoria?”
“Yes. The girl who was standing outside.”
Amara hesitated.
“You know her?”
“Everyone knows Victoria.”
“Why?”
Ada lowered her voice.
“She doesn't talk much.”
Amara looked at her.
“That's all?”
Ada shook her head.
“People say she knows a lot about the school.”
Amara's heart skipped.
“What do you mean?”
“I don't know. She's been here for years. She knows things most students don't.”
Amara thought about the note in her backpack.
I know why you're here.
Could Victoria have written it?
The thought made her uneasy.
At break time, Amara waited until most of the students had left before checking her backpack.
The note was still there.
She unfolded it carefully.
The five words stared back at her.
I know why you're here.
Amara turned the paper over.
Nothing.
She checked the edges.
Nothing.
Then she noticed something she hadn't seen before.
There was a tiny mark in the bottom corner.
It looked like the number 27.
Locker 27.
Amara's eyes widened.
The note had been placed in Locker 27 for a reason.
She quickly folded it again.
“Looking for something?”
Amara froze.
She turned around.
Victoria was standing near the classroom door.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.
Victoria's eyes moved to the note in Amara's hand.
Then she looked back at Amara.
“You shouldn't have opened that locker,” Victoria said quietly.
Amara stood up.
“How do you know about the locker?”
Victoria didn't answer.
Instead, she stepped closer.
“You need to be careful.”
“Why?”
Victoria looked toward the hallway.
“Because some questions are better left unanswered.”
Amara's heart pounded.
“My mother said the same thing.”
Victoria's expression changed.
“Your mother?”
Amara nodded.
“She told me not to ask questions about the past.”
Victoria stared at her for a moment.
Then she whispered, “Then she knows.”
“Knows what?”
Before Victoria could answer, the bell rang.
Students began returning to the classroom.
Victoria immediately stepped away.
“Wait!” Amara called.
But Victoria was already walking down the hallway.
Amara followed her to the doorway.
“Victoria!”
The girl stopped.
She looked back.
“If you really want to know why you're here,” she said, “look for the old library.”
Amara stared at her.
“The old library?”
Victoria nodded.
“But don't go there during school hours.”
Then she disappeared into the crowd.
Amara stood there, confused.
The old library.
Another secret.
She slowly returned to her seat.
There was something about Brightfield Academy that everyone seemed to know except her.
And now she was beginning to wonder whether her mother had sent her to the school for a reason she had never been told.
Amara opened her notebook.
A small piece of paper fell onto her desk.
Her hands trembled as she picked it up.
There were only eight words written on it.
If you want the truth, come after the last bell.
Amara looked toward the classroom door.
Someone was watching her again.
But this time, she couldn't see who.r notebook.
A small piece of paper fell onto her desk.
Her hands trembled as she picked it up.
There were only eight words written on it.
If you want the truth, come after the last bell.
Amara looked toward the classroom door.
Someone was watching her again.
But this time, she couldn't see who.
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