Ayla's POV
By the time the final bell rang, my brain had officially turned to pudding.
The whole day was one long, blurry nightmare of equations, whispered gossip, and the constant ache in my wrist reminding me that, miraculously, I had survived another day at Solaria Girls Academy.
Or worse, another Elena Morgan "ownership moment."
She hadn't shown up after that morning.
Not for classes.
Not for lunch.
Not for extracurriculars.
Not for dinner.
The Queen of Solaria had vanished for an entire day, and everyone acted like it was perfectly normal for their queen to abandon the kingdom.
I was the only idiot spiraling.
Where is she?
Why did she tell me to wait and never come back?
Did she get angry because I left? Or oh God, was this one of those psychological punishments? Like the mafia movies where the boss disappears to "make you think"?
I slammed my locker shut.
"Yes, let's go back and get killed tonight," I muttered.
"Who is dying?" a classmate asked behind me.
"No one," I said quickly, forcing a smile. "Just… science stuff."
Because clearly "science stuff" explains everything, including my slow emotional breakdown.
The hallway buzzed with laughter and weekend plans. Golden light poured in through Solaria's enormous windows, coating everything in peace I didn't feel. Everyone looked so carefree, like Elena Morgan's disappearance wasn't the kind of thing that should trigger a national emergency.
My mind wouldn't shut up.
Maybe she was angry. Maybe she was plotting. Maybe she was currently in some secret student council meeting deciding my fate with the same calm she used to rearrange her pen.
I told myself I didn't care.
"I don't care," I said.
"I am free."
"Her absence is a blessing."
But my eyes still darted around corners like she might jump out and demand to know why I breathed wrong or why I left when she told me to stay.
By the time I reached the dorm hallway, my imagination had already staged an entire Broadway show.
My brain was already auditioning for the best screenplay that night would bring when I returned to the dorm.
Scene one.
Elena sits in a velvet chair, legs crossed, hands clasped like some evil CEO.
"You thought you could leave when I said wait?"
"Elena, I swear—"
"Silence."
Then she snaps her fingers, and imaginary bodyguards appear out of nowhere.
"Tie her up with scholarship ribbons. Let her remember who paid her tuition."
I winced, shaking my head to snap out of it. "No. No more hallucinations."
But my brain didn't care. It started another screen without my permission.
Scene two. The execution.
Elena stands before a chalkboard, her handwriting immaculate, listing my crimes.
Crime number one, talking back.
Crime number two, being seen with Eden.
Crime number three, existing.
Crime number four, leaving without my permission.
Then she grabs her golden fountain pen and announces, "Punishment, death by silence and emotional manipulation," and I'm dragged out screaming dramatically while everyone claps politely.
I sighed. "I really need a therapist before Elena makes me a shadow of myself."
Instead, I had a doorknob.
The dorm door loomed ahead of me like the entrance to a horror movie.
Maybe she was already there, sitting in the dark, waiting.
One lamp. One shadow. One whispered, "Welcome back, disobedient one."
"Okay, breathe," I muttered. "Worst case, she kills me. Best case, she scolds me like her usual style. Both are fine."
I grabbed the knob like it was a bomb, took a deep breath, and opened the door.
Darkness.
No lamps. No classical music. No Elena Morgan perched like a ghost queen in the dark.
Just silence. Painfully ordinary silence.
The room smelled faintly of vanilla and lavender. Her scent, because of course she had to smell expensive.
Her side of the room was perfect. Blazer hanging neatly. Books stacked like soldiers. Pen placed exactly parallel to her notebook.
Nothing looked touched. Nothing looked alive.
"So she really did evaporate," I said under my breath, half relieved, half disappointed.
I threw my bag on the couch and collapsed beside it, staring at the ceiling.
If she wasn't here, then where the hell had she been all day?
I told myself not to care. Repeated it five times. Then stood up again, pacing.
Maybe she got summoned to the headmistress.
Maybe she was out plotting my next humiliation.
Or maybe, oh no, maybe she had cameras hidden in the dorm just to see what I'd do when she wasn't here.
I froze.
"Not today, Big Brother Morgan."
Still, curiosity burned hotter than fear. Against my better judgment, I crept toward her room, the forbidden zone.
Her door was slightly open, golden light slipping out like it was tempting me.
My heart pounded.
"Okay. Just one peek," I whispered. "If she's dead, I can at least call the nurse and prove I wasn't involved."
I pushed the door softly.
And there she was.
Lying on her bed. Back turned to me. One arm tucked beneath her head.
Her long black hair spilled across the pillow like silk.
No grand music. No cold glares.
Just Elena Morgan, sleeping. Peacefully.