The sunset was beautiful.
Too beautiful.
Diana stood at the base of the stairwell, clutching a cake box and a folded note:
*Rooftop. Just us. I'm sorry.*
She stared at Fiona's handwriting, hesitant.
Mathew had promised to meet her later—after his shift. But this message had come first.
*Just us*, Fiona had written. *I want to fix things.*
Diana climbed.
Each step echoed like a countdown.
---
The rooftop was quiet. For a second, she thought Fiona wasn't there. The wind tugged at her hair. She stepped forward—
Laughter.
Thin, high, cruel.
Three boys stepped from behind the water tank.
Not Fiona.
“Look what we caught," one of them said, eyes gleaming.
Diana took a step back. “This isn't funny."
“She's always so tense," another sneered.
“Maybe she needs a birthday hug," said
