HIGH SCHOOL RETURN OF EMILY

CHAPTER SEVEN WHY??

Emily collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath she no longer had. Her heart shattered all over again—not from the fall, but from the betrayal of someone she had called *best friend

*“And what exactly is this you’re doing?”* the female sneered, staring down at Emily’s trembling figure on the ground.

Emily gasped for breath, though no air filled her lungs. It was all instinct—an echo of what her living body once knew.

The woman stepped forward, towering over her with authority and disdain.

*“Quick one—I’m Havana,”* she said, her voice sharp and commanding.

*“Second in command here in Gehenna. And that,”* she gestured to the silent figure standing beside her, *“is Lucian.”*

The male figure didn’t move. He stood still as stone, cold as marble, his expression unreadable—like a perfectly carved statue. No warmth. No soul.

Stand up,”* Havana ordered.

Before Emily could even move, a *force* gripped her gently—but firmly—and lifted her to her feet. Her knees wobbled, but she was upright.

Tears welled in her eyes again. Her voice cracked as she whispered,

*“How… how could she do that to me? Harper… we’ve always been together. She was my best friend...”*

Havana rolled her eyes, unimpressed.

*“Together,”* she repeated mockingly. *“That word shouldn't exist, you know. It’s just another illusion humans use to comfort themselves—like loyalty, or love. You cling to it like it means something. It doesn’t.”*

Emily’s lips trembled. She looked around, feeling more lost than ever.

Her voice was barely audible when she asked,

*“Can I... can I see my mom? Just once more?”*

Havana scoffed, her laugh short and bitter.

*“See your mother?”* she echoed.

*“You think this is a vacation spot with visiting hours?”*

She leaned in closer, her voice now low and mocking.

*“You’re dead, sweetheart. That chapter is closed. You don’t get to peek back into the living world just because you’re emotional.”*

Emily’s tears spilled freely now, her heart cracking in ways it never had before—even in death

*"Now that you're dead,"* Havana said coldly, pacing in front of Emily, *"you only get one path forward—to the afterlife. There, your soul will be judged."*

She paused and tilted her head toward Lucian.

*"So go. Kneel before him."*

Emily’s eyes widened in horror.

*"What?!"* she gasped, taking a step back instinctively. Her voice trembled. *"No... no, I saw what happened to the man who knelt. He begged and you killed him. Please… don’t make me do this!"*

But Havana’s face showed no pity.

Before Emily could run or fall again, a sudden invisible force grabbed her. *It yanked her forward*, dragging her across the scorched ground. She struggled, kicking, scratching at the air, but it was no use. The grip was too strong—like gravity, amplified by pain.

She whimpered, her body weak, and then—*she was there*, directly in front of Lucian.

The silent figure stared down at her. Cold. Absolute.

Emily closed her eyes, her body trembling, bracing herself for the blade—the end.

Then—*silence.*

Not the silence of death. A pause. A shift in the air.

Emily opened her eyes slowly.

Lucian hadn’t moved.

Neither had Havana.