{ Mia }
The second I stepped out of the car, I felt it again—
that quiet heaviness in the air.
It wasn't danger exactly. More like the world holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
"Have a good day, sweetheart," Dad said, oblivious.
I nodded, forcing a grin. "Sure. You too."
He drove off, and I turned toward the gates. The usual morning chaos was in full swing—people laughing, lockers slamming, teachers pretending they weren't already done with the week. Emma was waving at me from across the courtyard, a croissant in one hand and her phone in the other.
"Finally!" she called out when I got closer. "You look half-dead."
"Thanks," I said dryly. "I worked hard on it."
She grinned. "You always do. Oh, and guess who finally showed up again?"
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Milo Rossi," she said, like it was obvious. "He's been gone for weeks, remember? Something about staying with his friend's family. Anyway, he's back—and the girls are acting like he just walked off a movie set."
My stomach tensed, but I didn't let it show.
Milo.
I remembered his smirk. The confidence. The faint glint in his eyes when he'd tried to talk to me. I'd brushed him off without a second thought, but now, knowing who he was...
I forced a laugh. "Right. Him. Totally forgot."
Emma squinted at me. "You forget everything that doesn't involve caffeine."
"Exactly," I said, and she dropped it—thankfully.
We headed inside. I told myself to breathe. To act normal. To blend in.
But every step closer to the classroom made my pulse quicken.
In class
I dropped into my seat, pretending to scroll through my phone. The room buzzed with low chatter. Then—
"Milo Rossi," someone whispered.
I didn't look up right away. I didn't need to. I could feel it—the shift in attention, the faint hum of whispers, the way every girl sat up straighter as if on cue.
I finally glanced toward the door.
There he was.
Same confident walk. Same casual smirk. But something about him looked different now—sharper. His usual playboy charm was still there, but beneath it, there was… calculation.
Our eyes met for a fraction of a second.
He smiled. Just a faint twitch of his lips.
I didn't return it.
"Hey," Emma whispered. "You good? You look like you just saw a ghost."
"Yeah," I said softly. "Something like that."
I turned away before she could ask more.
{ Author }
He hadn't expected to see her here. Not today. Not like this.
Mia.
The last time he'd seen her, she'd nearly gotten herself expelled for calling him "a piece of gum under a shoe." He'd laughed about it for days. But now… something about her was different.
Her energy. Her stillness.
Like she knew something he didn't—and wasn't afraid anymore.
He leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen against his notebook. He'd missed a lot while he was gone. Maybe too much.
His uncle had been acting strange lately—snapping at everyone, ordering quiet searches for something he wouldn't name. Milo hadn't asked questions; Enzo Rossi's temper wasn't something you tested.
But now, watching Mia out of the corner of his eye…
He wondered.
She wasn't just another classmate. He could feel it.
That subtle pull. That spark.
And for some reason, every instinct told him—
she was connected to whatever his uncle was hiding.
{ Mia }
By the time the bell rang, my head was pounding. Between pretending to listen to the lecture and pretending not to notice Milo's occasional glances, I was ready to crawl into the nearest air vent and disappear.
Scarlett's voice buzzed softly in my ear. "Your heart rate is elevated, Mia."
"No kidding."
"Would you like me to lower your stress levels?"
"I would like everyone in this school to stop existing," I muttered.
Scarlett hummed. "That is not a recommended course of action."
I rolled my eyes, shoving my notebook into my bag. As I stood, Milo brushed past me—just enough to make it look accidental.
"Hey," he said casually, voice low. "Still think I'm a piece of gum?"
I smiled faintly. "You're improving. Maybe you've reached shoe polish level now."
His smirk deepened. "Progress, then."
He walked off before I could say anything else.
Emma appeared at my side instantly, wide-eyed. "Okay, what was that?"
"Nothing," I said, adjusting my bag. "Absolutely nothing."
But inside, my stomach twisted. Because Milo Rossi wasn't supposed to be part of my world. Not again. Not after last night.
And yet, somehow—
I could feel the threads tightening, pulling our worlds right back toward each other.
And this time, I wasn't sure who would find out the truth first—
him,
or his uncle.
~ after school~
Slowly, I walked out of school waiting patiently for my dad to pick me up when my phone buzzed without missing a beat I whispered.
" Who is it Scarlett "
" It's your dad Mia I think you should pick up"
My stomach dropped 'why would dad call me ?'
' is he in trouble?'
' OH MY GOD IT'S ALL MY FAULT '
With trembling hands I pick up the phone.
" D-Dad are you okay ?"
" I'm fine Mia just wanted you to know I'm not coming work got dragged out later than I expected could you walk home ? And also don't forget to pick up your sister."
My heart rate calmed down and I sighed in relief. " Oh okay dad don't worry." I chucked. " Have fun at work." I laughed ending the call.
" Scarlett, is there anywhere near Emily's school that's secluyfor me to teleport to ?"
" There's an empty alleyway 50 meters away I'll send you the coordinates and a pic of the alley."
" DEAL!" I whispered walking excitedly to a bathroom stall in school."
I locked the bathroom stall, took a deep breath, and whispered, "Ready?"
"Coordinates locked," Scarlett replied. "You have exactly one minute before the cameras pick up motion in this hallway."
"Plenty of time," I muttered, rolling my shoulders.
The air shimmered faintly around me. A soft pulse of light—and the world snapped.
When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in the alley Scarlett mentioned. Quiet, empty, and smelling faintly of rain and metal. I brushed some dust off my sleeve and adjusted my backpack.
"Scarlett, status?"
"All clear. No thermal or visual signatures within a fifty-meter radius."
"Perfect."
I stepped out of the alley and started walking toward Emily's school. The sound of kids laughing drifted from the playground, high-pitched and chaotic. For a moment, it almost made me smile. Almost.
Then I spotted her—my little sister, standing by the gate, kicking at a pebble and looking bored out of her mind. Her backpack was almost bigger than her.
"Emily!" I called.
Her head shot up, and her frown melted into a grin. "Mia!" She ran straight into me, nearly knocking me over. "Why are you here? Where's Mom?"
I laughed, steadying her. "Relax, I'm not a ghost. Dad called—he got caught up at work. Mom's busy, so I'm your ride today."
Emily squinted at me suspiciously. "You don't even have a car."
"Who said anything about a car?" I said, smirking. "We're walking."
Her groan was dramatic enough to win an Oscar. "Miaaa, that's so far!"
"It's five blocks."
"Five blocks is like, five years!"
"Wow," I said dryly. "Didn't know math was your worst subject."
She stuck her tongue out at me, but grabbed my hand anyway. "You're so annoying."
"Family tradition," I replied, and we started walking.
For a while, it was quiet. Just the sound of our shoes against the pavement and Scarlett occasionally humming softly in my ear. The sun was dipping low, painting the sky in gold and pink. Normal. Peaceful. Almost enough to make me forget everything else.
"Hey," Emily said suddenly. "You've been weird lately."
I blinked. "Weird?"
"Yeah. Like, you stare at nothing. And you talk to yourself."
I hesitated, then laughed it off. "That's called being a teenager, Em. You'll get there eventually."
She frowned, clearly unconvinced, but didn't press it. She just swung my hand back and forth as we crossed the street.
When our house finally came into view, Emily perked up. "Race you!" she shouted, already sprinting ahead.
"Hey—wait!" I called, but she was gone, laughing like the world had never known fear.
I shook my head, smiling despite myself. "Scarlett?"
"Yes?"
"Remind me to enjoy this while it lasts."
Scarlett's voice softened. "Already recording the memory."
By the time I reached the door, Emily was already inside, yelling for Mom. I took one last look at the setting sun, exhaled slowly, and stepped in after her—pretending, just for a little while, that life was as simple as it looked.