Mira's POV
I had fifty-three minutes to decide if I was brave enough to save my mom.
My legs felt like jelly as I ran through the empty hallways, Mom's phone clutched in my sweaty hand. The message glowed on the screen: ROOM 247. ONE HOUR. COME ALONE OR SHE PAYS.
Someone had lured Mom here. Someone had taken her. And now they wanted me too.
The smart thing would be to find a teacher. Call the police. Get help.
But the message said come alone. What if they hurt Mom because I didn't follow instructions? What if she was already hurt and needed me right now?
My stomach twisted into knots so tight I thought I might be sick.
I rounded the corner toward the abandoned wing and slammed straight into someone. We both went sprawling across the floor.
"Watch where you're—Mira?"
I looked up into the face of Marcus Reid.
Marcus was tall and popular, one of those kids who seemed to glide through school without any problems. He played basketball. He had friends. People actually wanted to sit with him at lunch.
And right now, he was staring at me like I'd grown a second head.
"Are you crying?" he asked.
I touched my face. It was wet. I hadn't even realized. "I'm fine," I said automatically, scrambling to pick up Mom's phone.
Marcus grabbed it first. His eyes went to the screen before I could stop him.
"Room 247?" He frowned. "That's in the closed-off section. Why would someone—" His face went pale. "Mira, what's going on?"
"Nothing. Give me the phone."
"This isn't nothing." He stood up, still holding it out of reach. "Someone's threatening you. We need to tell Principal Martinez."
"No!" The word exploded out of me, louder than I meant. "No teachers. No principal. I have to go alone."
"That's insane. You can't—"
"They have my mom!" The words burst out before I could stop them. "Someone sent her a fake message saying I was in danger. She came to the school and now she's gone and they left that message and I only have fifty-one minutes left and if I don't go alone they'll hurt her!"
Everything poured out in one desperate rush. By the end I was sobbing so hard I could barely breathe.
Marcus's expression shifted from confusion to horror. "We're calling the police right now."
"No! You heard what it said. Come alone or she pays. What if they—what if they—" I couldn't even finish the sentence.
"Mira." Marcus grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. "Listen to me. This is serious. This is way beyond school bullying. Someone kidnapped your mom. You can't handle this by yourself."
"I don't have a choice!"
"Yes, you do. We tell an adult, they handle it, your mom comes home safe."
"You don't know that!" I shoved him away. "You don't know anything! You don't know what it's like to have everyone hate you for no reason. You don't know what Victoria and her friends have been doing to me. You don't know—"
"Victoria?" Marcus's face went hard. "What does Victoria have to do with this?"
I froze. I'd said too much.
"Mira. Tell me."
"She... she said she's been leaving the notes. The pictures. All of it." The words felt heavy leaving my mouth. "She wants me to leave the school. Lots of people do, apparently."
Marcus cursed under his breath. "I knew she was mean but this is—this is criminal. We're definitely telling someone now."
"There's no time!" I grabbed the phone back from him. "Forty-eight minutes. That's all I have. By the time we explain everything and the police get here, it'll be too late."
"So what's your plan? Walk into an obvious trap?"
"If that's what it takes!"
We stood there, both breathing hard, staring at each other.
Marcus ran a hand through his hair. "This is crazy."
"I know."
"You could get hurt."
"I know."
"Your mom could already be—" He stopped himself.
"Don't," I whispered. "Don't say it."
He was quiet for a long moment. Then: "I'm coming with you."
"What? No. It says come alone—"
"I'll stay hidden. Back you up from a distance. But I'm not letting you walk into that death trap by yourself." His jaw was set in a stubborn line.
"Why?" The question came out small and confused. "Why would you help me? You don't even know me."
Marcus looked uncomfortable. "I've seen what Victoria does to people. I've watched her and her friends tear people apart for fun. I always told myself it wasn't my business, that they'd stop eventually." His voice got quiet. "I was wrong. I should've done something sooner. So I'm doing something now."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him to stay out of it, that this was my problem. But the truth was, I was terrified. And having someone—anyone—on my side felt like a lifeline.
"Okay," I said. "But you have to promise to stay hidden. If they see you—"
"They won't."
We hurried toward the abandoned wing. The hallways got darker the farther we went, lights flickering or burned out completely. Caution tape stretched across the entrance, warning signs about structural damage plastered on the walls.
Marcus pulled the tape aside and we slipped through.
It was like entering a different world. Dust covered everything. Old lockers stood with doors hanging open. Broken ceiling tiles littered the floor. Water had leaked through somewhere, leaving dark stains on the walls and a musty smell in the air.
"This place is creepy," Marcus whispered.
I checked Mom's phone. Thirty-six minutes left.
We crept forward, our footsteps echoing despite our efforts to stay quiet. Every shadow looked threatening. Every sound made my heart jump.
Room 247 was at the very end of the hallway. The door was closed.
"I'll hide in that classroom across the hall," Marcus breathed in my ear. "Anything goes wrong, I'm coming out. And Mira?" He paused. "If you're not out in five minutes, I'm calling the police. Deal?"
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
Marcus squeezed my shoulder once, then disappeared into the darkness of the opposite classroom.
I was alone.
My hand shook as I reached for the doorknob of Room 247. It was cold under my fingers.
I turned it slowly and pushed the door open.
The room was empty.
Old lab tables were pushed against the walls. Broken beakers littered the counters. Graffiti covered the chalkboard. But no people. No Mom.
Confusion and relief and disappointment crashed through me all at once. Was this another trick? Another way to torture me?
Then I saw it.
In the center of the floor, someone had used tape to mark out a square. Inside the square sat Mom's jacket—the one she'd been wearing this morning when she dropped me off.
And a phone. Buzzing with an incoming call.
I walked forward like I was in a dream. Picked up the phone. Answered it.
"Hello, Mira." The voice was distorted, mechanical. Like something from a horror movie.
"Where's my mom?" My voice shook.
"She's safe. For now."
"I did what you said. I came alone. Let her go."
"Did you?" The voice made a tsking sound. "Are you sure about that?"
My blood turned to ice. They knew about Marcus.
"I'm here," I said desperately. "Please. Just tell me what you want."
"What I want is simple." The mechanical voice echoed in the empty room. "I want you to know what it feels like to lose everything. To have your whole world ripped away. To understand true fear."
"I don't understand. What did I do to you?"
"Not me. You ruined someone close to me. And now you'll pay for it."
"I haven't ruined anyone! I just got here three weeks ago!"
"Exactly," the voice said. "Three weeks ago. Think, Mira. What happened three weeks ago, right before you came to Westwood?"
My mind raced backward. Three weeks ago I was at my old school, packing up my locker, saying goodbye to my old life. We'd moved because Mom got a better job. There was nothing special about it. Nothing dramatic.
Except...
"The accident," I whispered.
There had been a car accident. The day before we moved. I'd been walking home from school and saw the whole thing—a red sports car running a red light, slamming into a minivan. I'd called 911. Waited with the injured people until the ambulance came. Given a statement to the police.
"You're starting to remember," the voice said with dark satisfaction.
"But that wasn't my fault! I just helped—"
"You testified against my brother. Because of you, he's facing charges. Because of you, his future is destroyed. Because of you, my family is falling apart."
"He ran a red light! He could've killed those people!"
"HE'S MY BROTHER!" The mechanical voice cracked with real emotion. "And you took him away from me. So now I'm taking everything from you. Your safety. Your mom. Your life at this school. Everything."
My legs felt weak. "Who are you?"
"That's for me to know. But here's what you need to know: your mom is alive. She's somewhere in this school. You have thirty minutes to find her before I call the police and tell them she broke into school property and attacked a student. With her history of mental illness, who do you think they'll believe?"
"My mom doesn't have—"
"She will by the time I'm done. I've got her purse, remember? Her ID. Her phone. I can make it look like anything I want."
The line went dead.
I stood there, phone in hand, mind spinning. This whole thing—Victoria, the notes, everything—it was all revenge for something I'd done to a complete stranger's brother.
A sound behind me made me spin around.
The door slammed shut. A lock clicked.
I ran to it, yanking on the handle. It didn't budge.
"Marcus!" I screamed. "MARCUS!"
No answer.
I pounded on the door until my fists hurt. "Let me out! HELP!"
My phone buzzed. A text from the mechanical-voice person:
Did I mention the fire alarm goes off in 25 minutes? Hope you find your mom before everyone evacuates. Otherwise she'll be trapped inside when the real fire starts.
Attached was a photo. Mom, tied to a chair, a cloth over her mouth, eyes wide with fear.
And behind her, I could see smoke detectors and exit signs.
She was somewhere in this building. And in twenty-five minutes, this whole place was going to burn.