New York, September 2013.
The day had been warm and drenched in sunlight. A gentle breeze had tousled the face of a sixteen-year-old girl as she paused before the imposing gates of a private boarding school. Hannah stood just over one meter sixty-three, her long black hair catching the sunlight, her brown eyes bright and shimmering with a mixture of hope and disbelief. A smile had blossomed across her face — the kind of radiant smile born from the realization that a long-held dream was finally within reach. At last, she was about to begin studying at the city's most prestigious high school.
Only three months earlier, tragedy had struck, leaving her shattered and struggling to find footing in a world that suddenly seemed cold and unforgiving. It had taken the steadfast support of a friend to help her rise again, to pull her back from the brink. Now, standing here, she felt determined to rewrite her story — to shed the shadows of pain that had clung to her and step into a future unburdened by the past.
Her eyes gleamed as they traced the sharp lines of the modern building before her — a fortress of privilege and ambition. This was no ordinary school. Few could gain entry. Beyond wealth, only the brightest minds were welcome. Here, only the smartest and the most affluent had a chance to claim a place within its walls.
"I can't believe I'm actually here..." she whispered to herself, awe thickening her voice.
Around her, the world seemed oblivious to her quiet joy. Instead, gazes were fixed on a flawless couple standing nearby — an embodiment of teenage dreams and social hierarchy. The boy was slender, brown-haired, wearing an arrogant expression that spoke of confidence bred by privilege. He wrapped his arm possessively around a tall girl whose beauty was almost unreal, the kind that could easily crown her Miss World.
"They're perfect," murmured a cluster of standing schoolgirls, eyes wide with admiration, voices dripping with awe as if speaking of deities rather than classmates.
A brunette, her face marked by acne and shadowed by insecurity, muttered bitterly under her breath, "And we can only watch from a distance."
She glanced toward the couple with puzzled eyes, then shook her head in disbelief.
"You won't believe what they did to the boy who tried to get close to Mariah," she added in a hushed tone.
Her friend's eyes widened.
"The poor guy has locked himself away. Only leaves his room for classes," she whispered.
Hannah, untouched by the murmurs and gossip, tightened her grip on her suitcase handle. With a steady breath, she stepped forward, determined to complete the final formalities that would officially mark the beginning of her new life at this school — the school she had dreamed of for so long.
***
She had opened the door and hesitated at the threshold, stepping inside a room swallowed by impenetrable, frightening darkness. Not a single shape was visible, and a cold shiver had raced down her spine as the creak of a mattress and the sound of slow, steady breathing reached her ears.
Later, the principal had informed her that the room had remained empty until now — that she was the very first student assigned to live there. The meaning behind this secrecy eluded her, but she had pushed it aside, unwilling to care. After all, she had been accepted into the school of her dreams.
Her hand had brushed the wall, searching in the dark for the light switch, fingers tracing the rough surface with tentative patience. Suddenly, she had opened her eyes wider, heart skipping a beat, as a shadow shifted beside her. Someone was standing close — too close. Panic surged, and she had dropped her suitcase, swallowing hard as a firm grip closed around her shoulders.
"How many times have I told you I don't like to wait so long for you?" a voice had whispered in her ear, low and dangerous. His hands had slid lower, encircling her waist with possessive force. "With me, you're safe. Our secret will stay buried. What are you so afraid of?"
"The fact that I don't know you... and don't know who you are," she had replied in a trembling voice.
Suddenly, she had been shoved violently backward, her spine hitting the mattress with a sharp jolt. The boy had straddled her, his grip tightening painfully on her chin as a bright light had suddenly flooded her face — the harsh glare of a phone screen.
"What right did you have to come in here?" His voice had turned cruel and rough. When she hadn't answered quickly enough, his fingers had prodded into her cheeks. "I think you want to die, little girl."
"This is my room," she had managed to say, voice faltering but firm.
A sneer had curled on his lips. "Your room?" he had mocked. "Admit it — she sent you here, didn't she?"
"What are you talking about? It was the director's decree," she had replied, growing more alarmed by his erratic behavior. "Now this place is mine."
"I hate people who spoil my mood. You'd better keep quiet," he had growled.
He had slipped the phone into the back pocket of his pants and stepped away, finally releasing her. She had sucked in a shaky breath, trying to steady her racing heart. The boy had moved toward the door, a dark laugh escaping his lips.
"Welcome to hell, girl," he had emphasized with a sinister smile before grabbing the handle and disappearing into the corridor.
She had pushed herself up from the bed and hurried after him, but the hallway had been empty — completely and hauntingly silent.
How was it possible that a chill was crawling through her veins, freezing her from the inside out?
***
She had pulled open the heavy maroon curtains, allowing a soft stream of daylight to spill into the room. Turning slowly, she had surveyed the entire interior with careful eyes. Despite her earlier fears that the place would need extensive repairs before she could truly settle in, the room appeared surprisingly clean — as if someone had been quietly maintaining it all along.
A sudden tickle in her throat had made her cough when she peered inside the closet, now thick with a layer of dust.
"Maybe not everything's been cleaned," she muttered under her breath, waving her hand in front of her face to dispel the lingering pollen.
She had moved to open the window and glanced over her shoulder just as someone entered without warning.
Her first instinct had been to scold the intruder for poor manners, but she bit back the words when she recognized the young woman standing in the doorway. Clutching a neatly folded school uniform in her hands, the visitor must be the boarding school's caretaker.
The caretaker's eyes swept the room briefly before a slight smile curved her lips.
"This room hasn't been occupied for many months," she said warmly. "So it's wonderful that you agreed to stay in it."
"What's the secret behind it?" Hannah asked openly, taking the uniform from her hands.
"Rumors travel fast around here, so the principal won't hide anything from you," the woman replied, pulling back her brown hair. "Two years ago, a student lived here who struggled with mental illness. Her parents withdrew her, and ever since, everyone's whispered that something haunts the darkness of this room. Of course, these are just the students' stories — they love to embellish and stretch the truth."
"So that's why no one wants to live here," Hannah murmured.
"There you have it," the caretaker said, amusement sparkling in her voice. "I hope you'll be reasonable enough not to believe the nonsense. You'll have this room all to yourself. Think of the other girls crammed three to a room — while you'll be living here like a princess."
There was something comforting about the woman's kindness, something that set her apart from most teachers Hannah had met so far.
"So I'll be the first student to prove these rumors are nothing but tall tales," Hannah said, trying to sound confident.
And someone else didn't believe in these ghost stories either, she thought, her mind drifting back to the mysterious boy she had encountered earlier in the room.
***
She watched her reflection in the mirror, though her attention was constantly pulled toward the other schoolgirls lingering in the bathroom. They whispered quietly among themselves, casting discreet glances at the girl standing beside her.
"You can still see the cursed blond. It will be difficult for me to cover it," Hannah murmured softly, her fingers gently combing through her long hair.
"I had the same problem," the other girl replied with a hint of sympathy. "The dark color only stayed the first time, so I promised myself I'd never bleach my hair again."
Hannah shifted her gaze back to the girl beside her, who was now rinsing soap from her hands. She lingered over her reflection in the mirror longer this time, but she wasn't truly looking at herself. Instead, her eyes watched the cluster of schoolgirls behind her, who whispered like a secretive chorus.
"Do you have something to tell me?" she asked bluntly, turning to face them. The whispering abruptly stopped as the girls sealed their lips, wary of provoking Mariah. She was friends with the school's elite—among them her boyfriend, Jimmy: handsome, fierce, and the right-hand man of the school leader. Their similar temperaments made their friendship unmistakably strong.
"You ruined the life of an innocent boy," a lowly gray-haired girl stepped forward, her voice steady and bold enough to wound. "He only suffered because he decided to get close to you."
Mariah crossed her arms over her chest and arched an eyebrow, silently waiting for the girl to finish.
"And what about it?"
"You're a pathetic asshole."
The tall girl laughed loudly, sneering as she glanced at the stunned expression on the newcomer's face.
"You're new here, aren't you?" Hannah nodded slightly. "So here's a piece of advice: stay away from people like this, or you'll get it too. Joseph is vindictive, and once he sets his sights on someone, it's over. He won't rest until he's poisoned every aspect of their life," she shrugged, a casual cruelty in her tone. "He's a strange kind of person."
"Are you threatening me?" the gray-haired girl narrowed her eyes.
"I'm not threatening you," Hannah assured her, voice calm but firm. "Just know it wasn't me who reports everything to them. There's always someone eager to curry favor with the king of the school, and I want to make it clear: I wasn't the one who ruined that boy's life."
Panic flickered in the girls' eyes as they instinctively tried to hide their faces with their hands just as a boy entered the bathroom.
Tall, black-haired, with an icy gaze that seemed to cut through the air, he stepped inside. His ears were pierced with earrings, his long fringe hung over his pale forehead, his skin almost ghostly against the black clothes he wore—a plain t-shirt, torn pants, and a worn denim jacket. He looked unlike any of his peers.
Mariah pressed her lips into a thin line as Joseph approached the burly teenager, a mocking smile tugging at his lips. He rolled up the sleeves of his jacket deliberately.
Unpredictable and dangerous, Joseph was infamous for crossing every line. Though he had repeatedly broken the rules, nothing could stop him. He was heir to a powerful company, and his father smoothed over his misdeeds thanks to a close relationship with the school principal. Rumors swirled that they often shared coffee in the principal's office, which made Joseph practically untouchable.
Despite his attitude, people respected him and craved his approval—but only the handsome, high-achieving students were accepted into his inner circle.
For the past two years, Joseph had ranked among the top three students and was the favorite of every teacher.
"I'm vindictive, and if I pick on someone, it's over," he declared with a mocking grin. Without warning, he grabbed the girl by the ponytail and yanked her hair painfully. "Walls have ears, so sometimes it's better to bite your tongue than say two words too many. Do you know why?" His gaze darkened as he turned to Mariah. "Because I'm that strange kind of person."
Hannah's mouth opened in shock at the cruelty she had just witnessed. It was the first time she had seen peer violence so blatant.
"Joseph, let's talk outside," Mariah said, her voice steady but cold. She couldn't bear to watch anymore. Joseph's behavior worsened by the day, and she didn't expect it to improve anytime soon.
She knew his history—the incident from first grade that had set Joseph on a path of revenge against his classmates. The once-kind boy had lost his soul, determined to destroy everyone because he trusted no one.
"I won't talk to you. It's Jimmy's job to explain things," Joseph sneered, pushing the gray-haired girl violently away. She fell hard onto the cold tiles. Joseph adjusted the gold watch on his wrist and fixed his gaze on a confused Hannah, who seemed ready to challenge his behavior at any cost. "Got a problem? Complaints, child?"
The brunette pressed her lips tightly together and drew a deep breath, but Mariah placed a calming hand on her shoulder.
"She's new. Still has a lot to learn. She doesn't know the school rules yet, so don't mind her."
Joseph rubbed his forehead and snorted.
"Is that so? Is that why I should just let her go?"
"And why should I treat you differently? We're all students here," the sixteen-year-old challenged boldly, crossing her arms and locking eyes with him. "The headmaster showed me the rules and regulations, but none of it said I should favor or bow to any student." Her black eyes were ice-cold, but even as a shiver ran down her spine, she refused to look away.
"You're barking orders, little girl." Joseph grabbed her chin and jabbed his fingers into her cheeks painfully.
She knew who he was. She recognized him.
"Stop calling me a girl. My parents gave me a name. It's Hannah."
Mariah glanced toward the boys standing in the bathroom entrance, watching the scene unfold.
Jimmy looked furious. He didn't want another fight between them—it had become an everyday occurrence thanks to Joseph's meddling. Joseph knew how to manipulate his friend, and it was no secret he disliked Mariah.
"Just don't hit her on my bed, or I'll be washing blood off the sheets again," Tom joked, making rabbit ears with his fingers to show he wasn't serious.
Hannah rolled her eyes; Tom's jokes hadn't made her laugh in a long time.
Tom lived in his own world. Occasionally, he pretended to be such a fool that many wondered how he managed good grades. He was the classic pretty boy, with blond hair and blue eyes accentuating his handsome face.
The last to join them was Jin—a boy shrouded in mystery, the quietest of the group. No one could truly reach him. His aloofness was precisely what made him so captivating to the schoolgirls. Tall, broad-shouldered, with prominent cheekbones and short brown hair with bangs, Jin had a presence that commanded attention.
The moment Jin noticed Hannah, his face paled. His heart rose to his throat, and for a moment, he hesitated to enter the bathroom. He was afraid that what he feared might be true. He was not ready to face her.
"Jin, I'm starting to worry about you. This is the first time I've seen your usually grave face soften to..." Tom trailed off, scrutinizing him. "A bit confused?"
When Hannah turned to face Jin, his mouth went dry. He could barely whisper her name.
"Hannah?"
He felt surreal, as if watching her in slow motion. When she passed without even a glance in his direction, his mouth dropped open, unable to believe what he saw.
"Is this some kind of illusion?"
Tom wrinkled his nose, following the first-year's bold steps with amusement.
"You mean the little devil who spit on Joseph's shoes? I saw that," he said, grinning as he glanced at his friend, whose anger seemed ready to ignite like a fire. "And I see our buddy too," Tom added, observing the changes in Joseph's expression. "Want a weather forecast for today? Though it's still hot outside, it's going to cool down inside. Expect a penetrating wind. You don't have to be a genius to predict that—just look at our roommate."