Scarlet
The scent of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the crisp morning air as I walked into school, my backpack slung over one shoulder. The familiar rhythm of the hallways—students loitering near their lockers, whispering about weekend parties, and the occasional sound of a teacher scolding a latecomer—was oddly comforting.
Yet, beneath the usual hum of high school life, something felt… different. Off.
Maybe it was the lingering unease from Damien’s sudden reappearance at the restaurant, a new girl, or maybe it was just my own paranoia. But in the past week, there had been subtle shifts, changes I couldn’t quite place. My parents had been acting differently—not in an obvious way, but in small things.
The careful way they glanced over their shoulders. The late-night phone calls alway
