The wind is brutal, the kind that feels like it could slap the soul out of you. Leaves fly through the air like confetti after a party, while the trees bend and sway like they’re desperately trying not to snap in half. Out here, the noise of passing cars is almost gone, swallowed up by the storm.
I squint past the school gates, but the rain is so heavy I can barely see anything beyond them. The whole place looks washed-out and hazy, like a watercolor painting someone left out in the rain.
Just as I figured—it’s raining hard, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to stop anytime soon. The school grounds are already dotted with puddles, water collecting fast in the dips and cracks of the pavement.
The rain’s pounding mixes with the background noise of students still hanging around. Some are
