For almost a week, Amir said nothing.
At first, the messages felt random. Annoying. Easy to ignore.
A sentence scribbled on the corner of his notebook. A folded slip tucked between textbook pages. A message written in neat handwriting on paper that definitely wasn't his.
He told himself it was nothing.
Just someone messing around. A prank. Bad timing.
But by the fifth day, it stopped feeling funny.
By the seventh, it stopped feeling normal.
It was the quiet part that scared him most. No names. No signatures. Just words that felt like they knew too much.
So when they gathered again in the art studio the next morning, Amir finally exhaled and said—
"I didn't want to bring this up."
Everyone went quiet.
Leo stopped fidgeting. Khadija straightened. Maliya looked at Amir carefully, like she already knew something was coming.
"I thought we could brush it off," Amir continued. "I really did. But it's been a week. We haven't received anything else—no invitations, no weird teachers, nothing. And suddenly… I'm the only one getting these."
"Getting what?" Leo asked slowly.
Amir pulled a folded paper from his bag and placed it on the table.
"Notes," he said. "Every day. Sometimes in my books. Sometimes in my locker. Once on my desk before class even started."
Maliya's breath caught. "Amir…"
"Yeah," he nodded. "You too?"
She hesitated, then slowly reached into her bag and placed another note beside his.
Khadija and Leo exchanged a look.
A really serious look.
"You've got to be kidding me," Leo muttered.
Matteo hadn't said a word.
He was standing near the window, arms crossed, jaw tight.
Amir swallowed. "The last two notes… I can't even say them out loud. Just—read."
Khadija picked one up first.
Her expression changed instantly.
Gone was the sarcasm. Gone was the teasing.
She passed it to Leo without a word.
Leo read it once.
Then again.
His eyes widened.
Maliya reached for the paper and scanned it quickly, then froze. She handed it back to Amir, who barely glanced at it.
"I already know," Amir said quietly. "Mine said the same thing."
Leo finally spoke, voice shaky.
"You might think you're all together… but what happens when one is let loose?"
He swallowed.
"Beware. One of you is the curse of what you're going through."
Silence wrapped around the studio.
Then Leo read the last line.
"If you need a hint… it's not hard to see the root. M-A-T."
Khadija sucked in a sharp breath.
"That's literally—" Leo stopped himself. "No. No no no."
He dragged his hands through his hair and started pacing. "This is insane. I'm seventeen. I'm in high school. I did NOT sign up for mystery notes and secret curses and—"
"Leo," Amir said.
"I am on full-blown panic mode," Leo snapped, turning sharply.
That shut everyone up.
Because Leo didn't shout. Ever.
Maliya stood quickly. "Okay. Everyone breathe. Right now."
She looked at Leo first. Then Khadija. Then Amir.
"We've talked to Matteo before," she said gently lookingatMatteo for some reaction. "He told us he wasn't hiding anything. Maybe he has things he's not ready to say."
Khadija shook her head slowly. "I know. And I didn't care before. Truly. We were friends before our crazy misunderstanding but—his family wasn't my business."
She exhaled. "But now? It feels… choking."
She hesitated. "We hear things. About his family. Wealth. Influence. Almost royalty-level stuff. And every time I ask—even casually—he brushes it off."
Leo frowned. "Still doesn't mean he's behind this."
"I know," Khadija said. "I want to trust him."
Before anyone could speak—
BAM.
Matteo slammed his hand against the table.
Everyone jumped.
He didn't look at them.
Didn't say a word.
He just grabbed his book, turned, and walked straight out of the art studio.
The door closed behind him with a final click.
Silence followed.
Amir rubbed his face. "I didn't want it to come to this."
Leo whispered, "That… did not help."
Amir took a breath. "There's more."
Everyone looked at him.
"Mr. Kenda?" Amir continued. "He's gone. Completely. I checked staff lists. Asked around. No one knows where he went."
"And the orange-haired boy?" Leo asked.
"I looked all week," Amir said quietly. "Intercom. Lost-and-found announcements. Half the school showed up. But not him."
Khadija whispered, "Like he vanished."
Leo stared at the floor. "What if… Matteo made them disappear?"
Maliya snapped her head up. "Leo."
"I know how it sounds," he said quickly. "But everything started after that meeting. And now these notes are literally spelling his name."
Khadija exhaled hard. "Okay. Enough."
She stood. "We need clear minds."
She looked at each of them. "We don't accuse. Not yet. First—we learn more about Matteo. From him. Not rumors. Not spying."
Amir nodded slowly. "We approach him ourselves."
"And if he still says nothing?" Leo asked.
Khadija met his eyes. "Then we rethink."
Maliya added softly, "We're still students. We can't go beyond the school. Security's too tight."
"So this is our move," Amir said. "For now."
No one smiled.
But they all agreed.
Because whatever was happening…
It wasn't over.
And the notes?....
---
The walk out of the art studio felt heavier than the walk in.
No one spoke at first.
The hallway outside buzzed with students moving between classes, laughing, arguing, living normal lives like nothing strange was happening at all.
Leo finally broke the silence. "Well," he muttered, "that went… amazing."
No one laughed.
They split up for class, but the tension followed them like a shadow.
---
The rest of the school day dragged.
In history class, Amir couldn't focus. Every time his notebook shifted, his heart jumped. Every time someone brushed past his desk, he expected another folded paper to appear out of nowhere.
None did.
That somehow made it worse.
Across the room, Matteo sat perfectly still, eyes forward, pen moving steadily across the page. If anyone else had looked at him, they would've thought he was fine.
Amir knew better.
Leo spent math class bouncing his leg so hard the desk shook.
"Bro," the girl next to him whispered, "are you okay?"
"No," Leo whispered back. "But thanks for asking."
By lunch, everyone felt drained.
---
Leo found Matteo near the vending machines after fourth period.
He hesitated for a second before speaking.
Rare for Leo.
"Hey," he said casually, stepping beside him. "You good?"
Matteo glanced at him. "Yeah."
Leo waited.
"…You were really out of it in the art studio," Leo added. "Like, really out of it, also sorry that we were literally doubting you while you were in the art studio listening."
Matteo looked away, jaw tightening slightly. "It wasn't a big deal."
Leo studied him. "You sure?"
Matteo nodded once. "It's nothing."
That was all he offered.
They walked together toward the courtyard, where Amir was already sitting on the low wall, backpack between his feet.
Amir looked up when he saw them. "Hey."
Matteo greeted him with a small nod.
They sat in silence for a moment.
Leo cleared his throat. "So, uh… random question."
Matteo didn't look convinced. "Go on."
"You ever think about, I don't know, talking more about your family?"
Amir winced internally.
Smooth, Leo. Very smooth.
Matteo's expression shut down instantly. "Why?"
"No reason," Leo said quickly. "Just—you know—friends talk about stuff."
Matteo stood. "I've got class."
And just like that, he was gone.
Amir sighed. "That's a no."
---
It didn't go any better on the other side.
Khadija and Maliya cornered Matteo briefly outside English, trying a gentler approach.
"So," Khadija said lightly, "your accent changes sometimes. Ever notice that?"
Matteo raised an eyebrow. "What are you trying to ask?"
Maliya stepped in. "We're just saying… we don't really know much about you."
"That's by choice," Matteo replied calmly.
Khadija crossed her arms. "We're your friends."
"I know."
"And you still won't talk."
Matteo's jaw clenched. "Because it's not the right time."
Maliya studied his face. "When will it be?"
He didn't answer.
The bell rang.
Saved by the bell—for him.
---
By the end of the day, the tension was unbearable.
They regrouped near the lockers, exhaustion written across every face.
Leo threw his backpack over his shoulder. "Okay. So officially? We got nothing."
Amir nodded. "Same answers. Same walls."
Maliya looked conflicted. "Maybe we pushed too hard."
Before anyone could respond—
"Are you done?"
They turned.
Matteo stood a few steps away, eyes dark, posture rigid.
"Because I am," he continued quietly. "I know what you're doing."
No one spoke.
"Yes," he said. "I've been hiding something."
Leo's breath caught.
"But not because I don't trust you," Matteo added. "And not because I want to hurt anyone."
Khadija stepped forward. "Then why?"
Matteo exhaled slowly. "Because when the time is right, I'll tell you. And when that time comes, you'll understand why I couldn't say it sooner."
Amir searched his face. "And the notes?"
Matteo's eyes flickered.
"I'll take care of it," he said firmly.
Leo frowned. "How?"
Matteo met his gaze. "You don't need to worry about that."
"That's not comforting," Leo muttered.
Matteo softened—just a little. "I promise you this: whatever's happening, I won't let it touch you."
Silence followed.
Maliya finally nodded. "Okay."
Khadija hesitated, then nodded too.
Amir didn't fully relax—but he believed him.
Leo exhaled shakily. "Cool. So we're just trusting the mysterious rich guy with possible secrets. Awesome."
Matteo almost smiled.
Almost.
They walked out of school together as the sun dipped low, long shadows stretching across the pavement.
Nothing else happened that day.
No notes.
No strangers.
No messages.
And somehow—
That felt worse than everything before.
---
Later That Night
Amir didn't sleep while Leo was already out cold.
Every creak in the dorm made him sit up. Every buzz of his phone sent a jolt through his chest.
At 2:14 a.m., he gave up and reached for his desk drawer.
Inside lay the notes.
All of them.
He spread them out carefully, aligning the edges, studying the handwriting again. Neat. Controlled. Familiar in a way he couldn't place.
One thing bothered him now more than before.
Not what the notes said—
—but what they didn't.
No threats.
No demands.
No instructions.
Just warnings.
Like whoever wrote them wasn't trying to destroy them.
Just… separate them.
His phone vibrated.
A message.
Unknown Number:
You're still awake.
Amir's blood went cold.
Amir: Who is this?
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then—
Unknown Number:
You're closer than you think.
Another vibration.
A photo.
Amir's breath caught.
It was the art studio.
Empty.
Except for one thing.
A note.
Sitting right in the middle of the table.