The morning sun cast long shadows across the campus gates, but none of them reached the small circle gathered around Celeste.
Lena stood closest to her, voice tight as she spoke.
"My dad called this morning... from the station." Her fingers were trembling, but her voice stayed steady. "The police recovered a body late last night. Female. Same height, same build. Same necklace. Same purse."
Celeste didn’t respond.
"They’re keeping it quiet for now," Lena added. "But they think it’s your mom."
The moment shattered the world like glass.
Zane was the first to move, stepping forward—but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, caught in a pause that never resolved.
He looked different lately. All that charm, the effortless energy—gone. It wasn’t just sadness. It was like something had been taken from him.
Emphera glanced away, her arms crossed tightly, jaw clenched. She said nothing, but the rage in her posture said enough. She’d known Celeste the longest—since they were kids—and she was never good at handling pain she couldn’t punch.
Iris stood with her arms folded, unreadable at first. But her eyes lingered on Celeste. Sharp, calculating, but dimmed with something softer—something like grief. She didn’t know how to show it. But it was there.
Celeste still hadn’t moved.
She stared ahead like time had stopped just for her. And for a second, no one knew what to say.
Far off, watching from the side gate, Franz leaned against his bike and lit a cigarette.
He watched them from a distance. The friend group huddled around Celeste like they could hold her together with words.
Zane, Lena, Iris, Emphera—all trying to play their parts.
< You’re just standing here. Thought you had a plan?>
[Let’s enjoy the show. It’s just getting good.]
Franz exhaled smoke slowly, eyes locked on the group.
"In the original plot, she doesn’t hear the news at home. Elliot tries to tell her, but she avoids him."
He tapped ash off the cigarette.
"Then she shows up at college. Lena tells her the news—her dad’s a cop, so he hears things early. Then Celeste breaks down. Big emotional moment."
"Then Zane steps in. Comforts her. Delivers some dramatic line like: ’You’re not alone. We’ll face this together.’"
[ Classic protagonist.]
Franz shook his head.
"Still don’t get how those cringe lines landed in real life," Franz muttered. "Whatever, lets see"
"I was going to tell her before she found out. Thought it’d be easier that way."
Franz’s gaze fixed on the group.
"But it’s too late now. I’ll wait until the worst part’s over. When she’s calm enough to listen."
As soon as the thought ended—
Her fingers finally moved.
She blinked, like something had just caught up to her.
It wasn’t loud. Just raw.
"No, no—this can’t be real."
Lena tried to reach out again, but Celeste pulled away.
"She told me she’d be home. She said we’d talk after. She said—she said—" Her voice cracked.
Then Zane stepped forward.
He hesitated only a moment before saying, "You’re not alone in this. We’ll face it together."
Everyone turned to him.
Celeste’s eyes widened—not with relief, but with something between disbelief and rage.
She laughed. Once. Sharp. Broken.
"That’s what you have to say?"
[I think a part of me just died.]
"Franz sighed, dragging a hand down his face.
"You had one job, Zane. One."
The low rumble of an engine.
He turned his head and saw a black car pulling around the corner. Windows tinted. Smooth, silent movement.