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    • Chapter

      Chapter 4

      by Quinn Hawthorne   As I trudged along the path back to Scarlet's house, it felt like the weight of the entire world pressed down on my chest, each step heavier than the last. The brittle warmth of the fading sun offered no comfort, only casting long, ominous shadows across the ground. The air, thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, warned of the encroaching fall, but the breeze that rustled the branches above felt unnatural—like something darker stirring in the distance. The world seemed to…
    • Chapter

      Chapter 5

      by Quinn Hawthorne Opening the journal felt like cracking open a storm, the pages heavy with emotion, as if Scarlet’s pain had soaked into the very paper. The leather binding was worn and soft beneath my fingers, but the weight of what I held made my hands tremble. Each word she had written seemed to scream out at me, etched in messy, desperate strokes that bled with all the emotions she hadn’t been able to say out loud. The first entry I flipped to was from April 10th, the numbers pressed into the page so hard it…
    • Chapter

      Chapter 7

      by Quinn Hawthorne The classroom buzzed with the usual dull energy of a Monday morning. Students shuffled in, slumped into their seats, and buried their faces in their books—or their phones, if they thought I wasn’t looking. But when Scarlet walked in, everything felt different. She moved with a quiet confidence, shoulders back, her head held high. No nervous glances, no hurried movements. It was like watching someone who’d finally decided they had nothing to lose. I marked her with a glance as she slipped…
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