The Incident
1168 Words
The first thing I do when I get home is Google Leon Fischer.
The second thing I do is question every decision that brought me to this exact moment.
Okay.
Amara.
Calm down.
You are not stalking him.
You are researching.
There is a difference.
Probably.
I sit on my bed with my laptop balanced on my knees.
I type:
Leon Fischer International School Hamburg
Enter.
Nothing useful.
A few random results.
A football player.
A company director.
Some man who looks old enough to be my grandfather.
Definitely not Leon.
I add König Academy.
Nothing.
I add student.
Nothing.
I add incident.
My stomach tightens.
Still nothing.
“Come on,” I whisper.
I try different searches.
International School Hamburg Leon Fischer incident.
International School Hamburg student incident last spring.
Hamburg school incident last spring.
Most of the results are completely useless.
I am about to give up when I see a tiny result near the bottom of the page.
School Forum Archive.
I click it.
The page loads slowly.
Very slowly.
Because apparently the internet wants me to suffer.
The post is from last spring.
The title catches my eye.
Incident at ISH.
I stop breathing for a second.
International School Hamburg.
That's it.
That's the school.
I scroll.
The original post has been deleted.
Of course it has.
But someone has uploaded a screenshot of an old school newspaper.
I click the image.
It's blurry.
Half the words are impossible to read.
I zoom in.
There.
A headline.
Student Incident During Spring Term.
My heart starts beating faster.
I scroll through the comments.
Most are useless.
People arguing.
People guessing.
People saying the school was handling it privately.
Then I find one comment.
Someone was injured.
I stare at the sentence.
Someone was injured.
That's all it says.
No name.
No details.
I scroll again.
Another screenshot.
This one has a few more words.
“Following last week's incident, the school has reminded students about…”
The rest is cut off.
I zoom in.
Nothing.
I lean closer to the screen.
“Come on.”
Nothing.
Then I notice a line underneath.
“Students involved will not be discussed publicly.”
Students.
Plural.
My stomach twists.
Leon wasn't alone.
I sit back.
Maybe he was a witness.
Maybe he was involved.
Maybe he did something.
Maybe he stopped something.
Maybe someone got hurt because of him.
I shake my head.
No.
Too many maybes.
I close the laptop.
Then open it again.
Because apparently I have no self-control.
I search his name one more time.
Nothing.
No articles.
No official statement.
No photograph.
No explanation.
Just that stupid school name.
And the word incident.
I shut the laptop.
“That's enough.”
My brain disagrees.
I lie down.
Five minutes later, I am still staring at the ceiling.
Someone was injured.
Leon knows.
Leon refuses to explain.
And someone wants me to know.
Wonderful.
I have accidentally enrolled in a mystery.
There should at least be snacks.
The next morning, I arrive at König Academy determined to act normal.
I make it approximately eight seconds.
Because Leon is standing by the lockers.
I immediately turn around.
Maybe he didn't see me.
“Amara.”
He saw me.
Of course he did.
I stop.
Slowly turn.
“Good morning.”
He looks at me.
“You're avoiding me.”
“No.”
“You turned around.”
“I forgot something.”
“What?”
“My dignity.”
He stares.
I smile.
“Very important.”
He doesn't smile.
Naturally.
I walk toward my locker.
He follows.
I pretend not to notice.
“You searched my old school.”
My hand stops on the locker handle.
Oh.
That was fast.
I turn.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I have excellent hearing.”
“You searched International School Hamburg.”
My stomach drops.
“How do you know?”
He looks at me.
“You're not subtle.”
“That is offensive.”
“You were looking at me differently yesterday.”
“I always look at you like that.”
“How?”
“Like you're annoying.”
He almost smiles.
Almost.
Then his face becomes serious again.
“You searched it.”
I look away.
“Maybe.”
“Why?”
I close my locker.
“Curiosity.”
“That isn't why.”
“You really hate that word.”
“I hate lies.”
That stings.
I look at him.
“I didn't lie.”
“You didn't tell me.”
“There's a difference.”
“Yes.”
He lowers his voice.
“What did you find?”
I hesitate.
The hallway suddenly feels too crowded.
“I found an old school newspaper.”
His face changes.
Barely.
But I see it.
“What did it say?”
“That there was an incident last spring.”
Silence.
“Someone got hurt.”
His jaw tightens.
I wait.
He says nothing.
“So it's true.”
“I didn't say that.”
“You didn't have to.”
He looks away.
For a second, he doesn't look cold.
He looks scared.
I almost ask if he's okay.
Almost.
Then I remember the message.
Don't trust Leon.
“I didn't mean to snoop,” I say quietly.
“You did.”
“Okay. I meant to snoop a little.”
“A little?”
“I Googled you.”
He looks at me.
“That sounds worse when you say it.”
“It sounds worse because it is worse.”
I sigh.
“I just wanted to know what happened.”
“You don't.”
“Maybe I do.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because it won't change anything.”
I stare at him.
“Maybe it will.”
He looks at me.
Neither of us speaks.
Then the bell rings.
Students start moving around us.
Leon picks up his bag.
“We have the history project after school.”
I blink.
“You still want to work with me?”
“Yes.”
“Even though I Googled you?”
“Yes.”
“That's strangely forgiving.”
“I didn't say I forgave you.”
I roll my eyes.
“There he is.”
He starts walking away.
I follow.
“Leon.”
He stops.
“What?”
“Was it you?”
He doesn't answer.
My chest tightens.
Then he says quietly,
“Be careful who you believe, Amara.”
He walks away.
I stand there.
Again.
Left with another question.
I reach into my pocket for my phone.
Maybe I shouldn't.
I already know I shouldn't.
But I check anyway.
One new message.
Unknown number.
My fingers go cold.
I open it.
This time, there are only seven words.
“You found the school. Now find the girl.”
I stare at the screen.
Girl?
What girl?
And then another message appears.
“I think Leon knows where she is.”
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