It was the third Thursday of the term when it happened.
Rain had arrived without warning heavy, thick, and sudden. The kind that slapped against windows and soaked clothes within seconds. Students scrambled into the school building like a startled flock. The corridors buzzed with wet sneakers, laughter, and excuses for missed umbrellas.
Adaora didn't run with them. She never did.
Instead, she wandered.
Down unfamiliar hallways, past classrooms she'd never noticed. Maybe it was the hum of the rain outside or the strange tightness in her chest that day a knot she couldn't loosen that made her stop at a door marked: Music Room 3B.
It looked unused. No noise. No crowd.
Perfect.
She pushed the door open quietly, expecting emptiness.
But someone was already there.
A boy. Older. With dark skin and short locs pulled into a tiny ponytail. He sat behind a table cluttered with equipment laptop, wires, beat pad, a small keyboard, and the biggest pair of headphones she'd ever seen.
He looked up.
She froze.
"Hey," he said casually, not surprised. "You lost, or just escaping the madness?"
"...Just wanted somewhere quiet."
He tilted his head. "Same."
Adaora turned to leave.
"You can stay," he added quickly. "I don't bite. I'm Malik."
She lingered in the doorway.
He gestured toward an empty chair. "Come sit. You look like someone who holds in too much."
Something about the way he said it calm, matter-of-fact, no pressure made her obey.
She sat.
And for the first time in what felt like years, someone saw her.