Chapter 11
Autumn's POV
If Quinn becomes a director one day, I will sue her for emotional damage.
"Autumn!" she whisper-yelled at 6:12 a.m., ripping my blanket away. "We have a Halloween photoshoot. Do you want the internet to see you crusty?!"
"I want the internet to see me asleep," I croaked.
Too late. She was already holding a curling iron like a weapon of fashion.
"Victorian detective era," she said proudly, showing me Pinterest photos. "We're serving intelligence and trauma chic."
"Trauma? I can contribute naturally."
She patted my head. "I know, sweetie. Now sit, I need to curl your hair."
---
We dressed in long dark coats, lace collars, boots, gloves — the whole dramatic detective aesthetic.
I looked like someone who solved crimes in candlelight and died mysterious.
Quinn did a slow spin. "Be honest. Do I look like I know 19th-century secrets?"
"You look like you haunt men who misplace their socks," I replied.
She gasped proudly. "Perfect."
We met the others downstairs:
* Rhea in a fitted coat, looking like royalty who fires people politely.
* Liam adjusting three different cameras because apparently one wasn't enough.
* Dorielle twirling a lace umbrella, judging the world.
* Theo with… fog spray. Real fog spray. He grinned like this was the moment he trained for.
"Ready?" Rhea asked.
"No," I answered out of habit.
"Great," she said. "Move."
---
The school was alive with decorations:
* Bats made of paper flapping in the wind
* Pumpkin lights hanging in trees
* Someone in a werewolf suit dancing aggressively near the fountain
Students stared as we walked through like a dramatic movie trailer.
"I feel famous," Quinn whispered.
"You feel delusional," I corrected.
Photography began.
Rhea: stoic, majestic.
Liam: crouching, rolling, cinematic mode activated.
Quinn: emotional poses like she lost a husband in 1805.
Theo: fog machine sneaking into every shot.
And me? I tried looking mysterious but probably looked constipated.
At one point, Quinn instructed,
"Pretend you just realized the murderer was the priest but you don't want to start drama at brunch."
… I tried. It looked like a toothache.
Whatever.
---
After photos, we explored:
* Haunted maze (Quinn screamed before entering)
* Candy booth (I pressured someone into giving me sweets with silent staring — power)
* Face-painting (Theo got a tiny ghost on his cheek, looked proud)
* Apple bobbing (Quinn nearly drowned...again)
Then Selene arrived — gentle dress, soft smile, still healing.
"Hi," she said quietly. "I… I missed you guys."
Theo hugged her like a puppy greeting a returning owner. Rhea placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Liam gave her warm nods. Dorielle smiled sweetly — suspiciously sweet, but sweet.
Selene turned to me.
"You always notice more than you say."
I froze. My default response was sarcasm but nothing came out, why is she so random.
She squeezed my hand lightly.
"You're safe now, okay?"
Safe.
Strange word.
Felt like it didn't belong to me yet.
---
That night, I dreamed again.
High school hallways.
Fluorescent lights buzzing.
Lockers slamming.
Laughter — sharp, cruel.
Feet running — mine.
Hands grabbing my collar.
A voice behind me:
"You should've stayed quiet."
I turned — a boy's silhouette.
Someone I once trusted.
Someone who laughed when I fell.
My chest squeezed. Air vanished.
Darkness swallowed everything.
I woke up sweaty, blanket kicked to the floor. Quinn snored, hugging a stuffed pumpkin like life was pure peace.
What a lucky pumpkin.
---
Next morning, I needed coffee and peace.
The café was calm — quiet jazz, warm pastries, sleepy students.
I ordered my drink, sat by the window, breathing slowly.
Okay. New day. No nightmares eating me alive. Good.
Then the door chimed.
A boy walked in.
Tall. Familiar posture.
Black hair slightly messy, eyes scanning the room like he was always expecting someone to accuse him.
My stomach froze.
*Evan.*
High school Evan.
The same Evan from those hallways, those whispers, that day.
Not a stranger.
A ghost with a beating heart.
His eyes landed on me — shock flickered, then recognition, then something else I didn't have a name for.
I wanted to disappear into the sugar packets.
He slowly lifted a hand — like a nervous wave.
I didn't move.
I blinked — and he was gone.
Coffee sat untouched at the counter. Just like yesterday's life. Unfinished.
My throat tightened.
Past wasn't a memory anymore.
It walked into my morning.
---
I entered the club room late.
Everyone was arguing over Halloween props.
"You can't tape googly eyes on the whiteboard!" Rhea protested.
"It's festive eye contact," Quinn said, sticking more on.
Liam looked at me. "You okay? You look like someone threatened your headphones."
"Nightmare," I said. "And coffee."
Combination of trauma and caffeine. The usual.
Rhea studied me — quiet, perceptive.
"Some ghosts visit before they're done with us," she said softly.
I didn't ask how she knew.
Dorielle rolled her eyes. "Or maybe she just saw her ex. Relax. Not everything is horror."
Actually, that was worse.
I muttered, "I don't… have an ex."
Theo blinked. "Even scarier."
--
Evening came — lanterns glowing like stars drifted through campus.
Students laughed, music played softly, everything felt safe again.
Until a shadow stood near the fountain.
Tall. Familiar shape.
I blinked — gone.
Cold tugged my spine.
Then Quinn looped her arm through mine.
"Hot chocolate? After-parade tradition."
I looked at my friends — laughing, teasing, alive.
"Yes," I whispered. "Hot chocolate sounds perfect."
Maybe monsters were real.
Maybe some wore school uniforms, not masks.
Maybe some were memories with legs.
But this time…
I wasn't walking alone.
END OF CHAPTER 11