MIRA
A heavy silence drapes over Monday like an old coat. Promises pile up before the day even begins.
Dark hours dragged by. Each blink brought Selena's flawless grin, her hushed warnings echoing, the earth tilting under me again. My daughter lay beside me through the night - first time in years - pressed to my spine as if sensing I couldn't stand alone.
Facing the small mirror now, my reflection comes into view. Tired eyes watch every move I make. Fear sits heavy on that face. Yet beneath it stirs a flicker - unfamiliar, quiet. This new thing has never shown up until today.
Faintly, Damen's voice lingers behind my thoughts. In every way, he said I was stronger than anyone he'd known.
Fragile, that's how it sits. A single misstep could tip everything into collapse.
"Mira?" Elena's voice drifts in. "Your phone's buzzing. Again."
Outside the shower, I see her there. My phone glows in her hands, filled with texts. The light catches my eyes as I reach for it. Fingers move down the list, line after line.
Messages fill the screen - seven of them. Each one arrives from a number unknown. Not familiar at all. One after another, they echo the same idea. Different words, sure. But always the same point showing up again
Slut.
Might be you reckon you're above everyone else?
Stay away from him or else.
We know what you are.
Out comes the block button, quick and silent. Messages vanish before they can breathe. The device returns to her palm, screen dark.
"Who is it?" she asks.
"No one. Just noise."
"Mira." She uses that tone - the one that says she's fourteen going on forty. "I'm not stupid. Those are threats, aren't they? From that girl? Selena?"
Lying might help. To shield her. Stay clear of the mess. Yet here she stands, right inside it. Always was there, really.
"Yes. But I'm handling it."
"How?"
A silence settles. There is no reply inside me.
"By surviving," I finally say. "Like always."
Elena studies me for a long moment. Then she nods, just once, and hands back my phone. "Okay. But if you need me - if there's anything I can do - you tell me. We're in this together. Remember?"
It comes back now. All of it returns at once. Moments rise without warning.
***
Halfway there, the road stretches like it never did before. Each vehicle rolling past - each stranger's look - has me ready to jump. The bus stop bench meets me hunched, fingers trembling without warning.
Out past the courtyard, a few others like me stand close together, trying to stay warm. A quick glance my way - that usual half-smile, nothing more. Not quite strangers, though never really close either. Walking parallel paths because life pushed us down one path, not because we picked each other.
A girl called Priya stands out. Not much older, yet somehow more worn down already. Once picked on constantly - Selena made sure of that. Left school midyear, vanished without noise. Now she sits again in the hallways, voice lower, gaze sharper, circles beneath her eyes like old bruises refusing to fade.
"Hey," she says quietly, moving closer. "I heard things. About you and Blackwood."
I stiffen. What kind of stuff?
"Just... rumors. Nothing specific yet. But Selena's been talking. And when Selena talks, things happen." She glances around, lowers her voice. "Be careful. Whatever's going on, be careful. She doesn't forgive. She doesn't forget. And she has resources most of us can't imagine."
"I know."
Priya looks right at me. What she means hits me slowly. She had been sure once. Sure she could manage it all. Yet it isn't only about that one person. Everyone plays a part. Teachers pretend they see nothing. Classmates stay quiet - because speaking up takes more than they're willing to give. The structure meant to shield folks such as her never had room for ones like me. A silence follows. That long - just forty-two days - I made it that far until everything cracked
"I'm not you."
"No. You're not." She doesn't sound offended. "You're tougher than me. Everyone knows that. But tough isn't always enough." She steps onto the bus as it arrives. "Just... remember that. Tough isn't always enough."
Behind her I go, stepping into the bus. Her voice sticks around inside my thoughts. Being strong? Sometimes that still misses the mark.
Yet that's what remains.
***
Fog clings to the rooftops that morning, making the old brick seem older. Vines curl tight around stone like they're holding on for dear life. Kids walk slow between classes, heads down, voices low. Their polished shoes crunch gravel but nobody laughs anymore. Something shifted weeks ago - nobody said what, yet it hangs in the air heavier than smoke. The windows reflect nothing familiar. Even sunlight seems sharper here now.
That stare hits right away when I walk into school grounds. Not just looks - this cuts deeper, colder somehow. Gossip slips out fast each time I move past. Laughter jumps up from second-year students hiding it badly behind palms. My presence gets filmed maybe by some kid holding a device ready to share it all again.
Head stays low. Steps move forward, slow but steady. Each foot lands ahead of the last, without hurry.
When I get to my locker, a note is already stuck on it.
We see you.
Not three sounds, just shapes inked carefully. Each letter lined up straight across the page. White space around them stayed clean, untouched.
Folding it tight, I stuff the paper into my coat - eyes looking away fast. A glance missed feels easier that way.
***
DAMEN
Last time I saw her was near the classroom door. That bell rings soon. She walks fast when she's late. My shoes tap on the floor. This hallway feels long today.
I understand the danger here. It might backfire, true. Still, since last night - since her words landed, since my chest went tight - I cannot act like silence fixes anything.
Footsteps echo faintly as she steps into view down the hallway, then - just like every time - the beat skips inside my chest. Yet this moment feels off. Her skin is washed out, muscles tight, gaze jumping from wall to shadow as if waiting for danger to strike.
"Mira."
A pause. Her eyes meet mine. Just for a breath, something shifts - like ice giving way. But then it freezes over once more.
"You shouldn't be here. People are watching."
"I don't care."
"You should." She moves past me, toward the classroom. "Selena came to my apartment yesterday. She knows everything, Damen. She threatened Elena. She threatened Columbia. If you keep talking to me, it just gets worse."
"Then we'll face it together."
A pause. She turns around. Brightness fills her eyes - could be fear, perhaps anger, hard to tell which one wins.
"Together? You don't understand how this works. Your 'together' means she targets me harder. Your 'together' means my life becomes a war zone. I've spent years building invisibility, and you - " She stops herself, takes a breath. "I'm not saying this to hurt you. Truth is, I wouldn't say it if it weren't real. To be noticed by you - that's riskier than anything I've faced
Words cut sharp, each one stinging. Yet past the hurt, a truth shows through - fear lives there. It isn't about harm from me. What shakes her is the price love could demand.
"I understand," I say quietly. "I do. But I'm not going anywhere, Mira. You can push me away, tell me to leave, pretend you don't feel this - but I'll still be here. Waiting. Because you're worth waiting for."
A spark lights up her gaze. When the bell sounds, off she goes - vanishing into the room as if carried by air.
Here I am. Down into the chair I go. The whole hour, eyes stuck on her hairline, puzzling over ways to pull her clear of a life hellbent on wearing her down.
***
SELENA
Midday arrives. The effort pushes forward without pause.
Now it's running - every channel open, every quiet word passed along, each post pushed out just right. People are saying Mira Castillo, but not like she's real. More like a laugh. A warning wrapped in gossip. Something people repeat when they think no one's listening.
Funny thing, someone mentioned that scholarship student believing she could fit into Damen Blackwood's world.
Who would have thought she'd walk in here today. Not after all that went down.
Funny how nobody's mentioned she doesn't belong around these parts.
From my seat by the window, I see her walk in, carrying a tray, no one beside her. Her path leads toward the aid-student spot close to the kitchen doors. Yet it's taken - juniors occupy those seats now, though they've always eaten elsewhere until today.
A pause. Her eyes move left then right. Each seat that could've been taken now holds someone else - faces turned away, space closed off.
A flicker - only that - of what might be guilt stirs. Not a child, yet so young. This one fights for breath in a world that won't help.
That moment comes back - Damen's expression shifting as his eyes land on her. Light spills into his features like a switch flipped. A warmth I never summoned, not once.
The guilt vanishes.
Backed into a corner, she stands while eating, by herself. Just right.
Beside me, Briar shows up. Phase two stands prepared
"Good. Let's make sure everyone remembers her name."
***
MIRA
Leaning on the wall, lunch in hand, bricks pressing into my spine, people moving past - then another wave rolls in.
A vibration hits my hand. After that, another follows. A third comes right behind.
Frozen still, I draw it forth - my breath stops cold.
A group chat shows up. My phone number sits inside it. They're sharing images - of me. At the diner, catching the bus, moving through The Shallows. Snapshots I didn't know existed. These frames whisper one truth: eyes followed me long before today.
Words move down the screen one after another
Her clothes hang loose. Ever seen something actually suit her?
A place people toss trash is where she's said to stay. Not just poor housing - an actual mound of garbage.
She's stuck behind bars. Behind steel and stone. Picture that.
Maybe it's time she heard that her place isn't here.
Into the pocket goes the phone. Shaking hands make every motion clumsy.
Eyes stick to my skin like wet paper. Some grin, others nudge each other without hiding it. Fingers lift toward me - slow, sharp. Murmurs twist through the air, sour and close. Bits reach me: …acts too high… …must've used her body… …won't miss a second of her fall….
Out I must go. Air fills my thoughts now. A step away begins here
"Mira."
Damen stands before me, voice cutting through the noise. Up ahead, his figure emerges - forcing past bodies, closing the gap. Anger shapes his features, yet something tender lives there too. The sight of him strikes like a match.
"Don't," I whisper. "Please. It'll only make it worse."
"I don't care." He reaches me, stands beside me, faces the crowd. "Anyone have something to say? Say it to my face."
Sound fades. A pause settles, bodies stiff, torn by meanness yet trembling at the thought of Damen Blackwood.
From within the murmurs of people nearby, Selena speaks up. Her words float out, light but sharp. "Still guarding that tiny scheme of yours, Damen?" A pause follows. Then softly she adds, "How touching." The air shifts slightly as her voice lingers
He stiffens. "Selena. This ends now."
"This?" She emerges from the crowd, beautiful and terrible. "This is just beginning. You think a few words will protect her? You think standing beside her makes her safe?" She laughs - a cold, beautiful sound. "Look around, Damen. Look at what's happening. This is what happens when you choose wrong. This is what happens when you forget who you are."
"I know exactly who I am."
"Do you?" She steps closer, her eyes flicking to me with contempt. "Because who you are is a Blackwood. And who she is - " She gestures at me, at my too-small uniform and my secondhand shoes and my desperate, terrified face. "She's nothing. Less than nothing. And by the time I'm done, everyone will know it."
Back toward the exit she moves, steps steady. Around her, people shift aside like water, then fade off in different directions. Just Damen and I stay behind, pressed near the wall as space opens up.
Breath gone. Mind blank. Only trembling holds me up as everything swirls, fast and heavy, outside my skin.
Damen reaches for me, fingers closing around mine. A pressure builds between us, quiet but firm.
"Come on," he says quietly. "Let's get out of here."
"Where?"
"Anywhere. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe."
I'd say it straight - safe doesn't exist. At least not in my world. Not now.
Yet I followed where he went, since nothing else came to mind.
***
ELENA
Home from school, my feet move fast on the path - then it hits. A presence trails behind, quiet but clear. Not a sound, just steps matching mine too closely. The air shifts. Awareness prickles at the back of my neck. Alone? Maybe not.
At first it slips in quiet - like a car moving past, only to loop around again. Behind a tree, someone lingers, partly out of sight. There's weight along my spine, a gaze that sticks without leaving.
Fourteen years old. Not dumb. Following? I recognize it when I see it.
Turning away now, toward the busy road rather than home. There are others around - safer with eyes nearby. Behind me, the vehicle keeps coming.
Something tight in my chest, yet I stay still. Move too fast, they see a target. Shifting quick only shows fear.
Out comes my phone. I send Mira a message - there's a person behind me.
A tiny trio of dots shows up without delay. After that comes a question - location on the mind.
Corner of Main Street. Close to the bodega.
Hold on. Here I come.
On goes my stroll, eyes shifting to storefronts, acting like nothing's off, though that black car sits idle just opposite, motor still humming. That vehicle - engine alive - it watches without moving, while I fake interest in displays I do not care about. Step after step, I linger near windows, feigning casual attention, heart steady, face blank. The sedan stays put, warm under silence, waiting or watching - I cannot tell which.
Ahead of schedule, Mira shows up sprinting, gasping for air, Damen close on her heels.
Out of nowhere - Elena! Her hands are on me, tugging me near. She scans every inch, fingers brushing my arms, my face - same way she did when I was small. Questions spill fast: Are you hurt? Did anyone lay a hand on you? How bad was it?
"I'm fine. I'm okay. They just... followed. Watched."
Mira's skin loses color, suddenly. A flush spreads across her cheeks now. Pale once more it turns, just like that.
She turns to Damen. "This is her. This is Selena. She's not just threatening me - she's going after Elena now."
Damen's jaw sets hard. "I understand."
"We need to go to the police."
"And say what? A car followed your sister? There's no proof, no evidence, nothing they can use." He runs a hand through his hair. "Selena's too smart for that. She'll have alibis, deniability, everything."
"Then what do we do?"
A silence sits there, heavy. His eyes meet mine after that stretch of nothing, seeing me as someone real instead of just another weight.
"Elena, do you have somewhere you can stay? Somewhere safe, away from here?"
I think about it. "Maybe Sasha's? Her mom's cool. She'd let me crash for a while."
"Do it. Tonight. Don't go back to your apartment."
Mira opens her mouth to speak, yet he stops her mid-sentence.
"I know. I know you don't want to be apart. But if Selena's willing to go this far, we need to be smart. Elena needs to be somewhere Selena can't find her. At least for now."
Mira turns my way. Her gaze holds a clash - scared, caring, clinging to the urge to shield.
"Elena - "
"I'll go." I squeeze her hand. "It's just for a little while. Sasha's is safe. Her mom's cool. I'll be okay."
Close once more, Mira draws me in, arms locked as if release isn't an option. Her grip says staying is the only plan.
My grip stays just as tight.
Now here's something strange - fear has returned after years of quiet. It sits heavy, this feeling, sharp and sudden.
This won't be the last of it, I'm sure.
Maybe this is only the start.