The sky outside the school was beginning to darken, streaked with soft grays and fading golds. Ms. Diandra was finishing up paperwork in her office when her phone rang again.
Incoming Call: Randy Walker
She paused, surprised.
She picked up. "Hello, Randy. I assume this isn't a social call?"
"No," Randy said, calm as ever. "It's about Claire. And the situation with Diana."
Ms. Diandra sat up straighter. "Go on."
"I'm the one who first traced the source of the rumor. I didn't say anything before… but I used access through my father's credentials. Since he owns the school, I have admin-level visibility on school system logs. Quietly."
She blinked. "You checked our systems… from outside the school?"
"I checked the IP trail and login data linked to the anonymous account spreading the rumor. Diana's school login showed up repeatedly from the same terminal — the art room computer. Once I had enough, I passed it to Miko."
"Miko never mentioned that," Ms. Diandra murmured.
"He didn't know where it came from," Randy admitted. "I made sure of that. I wanted Claire to hear the truth from someone she already trusted. If it came from me — someone from outside, someone she's unsure of — it might've made her doubt everything again."
There was silence for a moment.
Then Ms. Diandra asked gently, "Why didn't you tell her what you did?"
Randy's voice lowered. "Because I'm not trying to win her trust with power. I just… wanted to protect her. Quietly. Like Sam used to."
"She might want to know someday."
"She will," Randy said. "When she's ready. When she's strong enough to see I wasn't trying to save her — just walking behind her to make sure no one buried the truth."
Ms. Diandra's voice softened. "You know, not many people your age would handle things like this."
"I'm not most people," he said quietly. "Not when it comes to Claire."
Then the call ended.
That night, Claire sat in her room, cross-legged on her bed with her notebook open in front of her.
The word "TRUTH" was written across the top of the page in ink. Beneath it: a list of names, dates, and fragments.
She looked at Diana's name, now underlined twice.
And next to it, she had written something else, barely more than a whisper of a thought:
"Someone knew before I did.
And they chose not to tell me —
To protect me, not control me."
She didn't know it yet.
But miles away, at a different school with different halls and uniforms and pressures of its own…
Someone had never stopped watching her back.
Not for recognition.
Just because he still cared.
The next morning, the sky was overcast again — soft and gray, but no longer heavy.
For once, Claire didn't dread walking into the school hallway. The storm had passed, at least on the surface. Diana was suspended, and word had started to spread — not gossip this time, but truth.
People no longer looked at Claire with the same whispering judgment. Some avoided her still, but others gave her quiet, almost apologetic glances, like they now realized what had really happened.
And then… there was Vienna.
Claire spotted her by the lockers between third and fourth period — alone, clutching a notebook to her chest, eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on her.
Claire slowed.
So did Vienna.
They stood there, a few steps apart, the space between them filled with tension that had taken weeks to build… and only seconds to shatter.
Vienna was the first to speak, her voice low but clear.
"Claire… can we talk?"
Claire hesitated — but then nodded.
They walked toward the garden benches behind the library, where they used to sit together after exams. The space was quiet, shaded, full of memories.
Vienna turned to face her, her eyes glassy but steady.
"I'm sorry."
Claire blinked. "For what?"
"For… all of it. For believing something I didn't even ask you about. For turning away when you needed me." Her voice cracked. "I was scared, Claire. I didn't want to be involved. I let rumors speak louder than you. And I hated myself for it the second I walked away."
Claire didn't answer right away. Her jaw tightened, but her eyes softened.
"I thought you hated me."
"I never hated you," Vienna said instantly. "I was just… stupid. And jealous. You were close to Sam. Closer than I ever was. And when he died, it was easier to blame someone than to admit I didn't know him the way you did."
Claire exhaled slowly, her voice quieter. "It hurt. You were one of the few people I thought would stay."
Vienna's eyes brimmed with tears. "I want to stay. If you'll let me. I know I don't deserve your trust back right away… but I miss being your friend."
A long pause.
Then Claire looked up — really looked — and saw the old Vienna there. Not perfect. Not fearless. But real.
"Okay," she said softly. "Let's start over."
Vienna smiled through the tears. "Thank you."
They sat down on the bench, side by side like they used to. For a moment, there was no tension, no rumor, no ghost of Diana's voice or Sam's shadow.
Just two girls trying to piece something back together.
And in that quiet space, Claire realized:
Sometimes people do come back.
Sometimes they do regret.
And sometimes… forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting — it means choosing to keep going, together.
Over the next few days, the school seemed to exhale. The rumors were gone. Diana's suspension had taken away the tension that had clung to the air. Claire was starting to feel seen again — not as the target of suspicion, but as herself.
Her friendship with Vienna had begun to heal. Miko still checked in, though he kept his distance, careful and respectful. And Randy, though attending a different school, continued to reach out with short, quiet texts:
"You okay today?"
"Thinking of you. Always here."
Claire appreciated it — but the space between them remained.
Because something deeper was beginning to stir again.
That night, as she sat alone in her room, the quiet wrapped around her like a question. Her notebook lay open beside her, half-filled with evidence, names, timelines, and things Sam left behind.
But her eyes drifted to the very first page.
The oldest one.
From before Sam's death.
From before this version of her life even began.
"Why did they kill me before I was reborn?"
She had avoided it. Let it fade to the corners of her mind. She told herself there were bigger things to worry about — Sam's case, school, surviving each day.
But the truth was still there.
Still haunting her.
Still waiting to be faced.
Because no matter how much time passed, she remembered.
The fall.
The sound of her own scream that no one stopped.
The hands that pushed her.
The betrayal that came from those she once called friends.
Their names still burned on the page like a scar.
Tasya.
Diana.
They were the ones.
Before this life, before Claire was given a second chance — it was them.
She didn't remember everything yet. The memories came in fragments, like broken glass under water. But the anger in Tasya's voice… the jealousy in Diana's eyes… it had never left her.
Back then, Claire had been different — still kind, still warm — but perhaps too trusting. She remembered how she stood up for someone bullied, how that act had painted a target on her back.
Tasya had power. Diana had venom.
And together… they made sure she never stood again.
Claire swallowed hard, her fingers tightening on the notebook.
Diana may be gone from school now.
But Tasya... she was still out there.
A different school. A different city. But Claire had her full name.
And she was ready to find her.
"I need to know why," Claire whispered to herself.
"Why they hated me enough to kill me."
"Why I had to be reborn just to live again."
She stood up and walked to her desk, opening the drawer. There, tucked under old drawings, was a small photo from her previous school's yearbook — smuggled out quietly during her brief return visit last semester.
Tasya's face stared back.
Smiling. Fake.
Claire met her eyes through the glossy paper and said quietly,
"I remember you now."