Missing Names
Lila's absence hung heavy and silent in every corridor. No announcement, no explanation - just a neat line added to attendance sheets: Absent - approved leave. Elara knew better; that was exactly how the erasure began - quiet, official, irreversible.
Between classes, she slipped quickly to the bulletin board near the registrar's office where the full student list was posted. There it was: Lila's name still printed, but faint, almost faded as if ink was drying out fast. Beside it, the small code she had learned to recognize - the same mark used beside names that later vanished completely.
"Stop staring," Kai murmured, stepping close beside her like a casual passer‑by. "Someone always watches this board. They want you to notice... and be afraid."
"It's not just fear," Elara
