Evelyn waited until midnight.
The dormitory had fallen into a hushed lull, the soft breathing of other students weaving through the dark like a lullaby she couldn't fall asleep to. But her heart beat too loud, and the envelope in her lap felt like it carried more than words. It felt like it held truth—or danger.
With slow fingers, she broke the seal.
It wasn't a letter. No greetings, no explanation. Just a single line, scrawled in hurried ink, jagged with urgency:
"You're not safe. Watch Isabella. She's not working alone."
No signature. No crest.
Her fingers curled tightly around the parchment. It crinkled under her grip, but she didn't tear it. She read it again. And again. Every word seared into her mind.
Who sent it?
Why now?
The next morning, Evelyn moved with calculated quiet. Not cautious—intentional. There was a new tension in her spine, the stillness of someone who knew she was being watched. Her eyes scanned faces more carefully. Her footsteps were lighter, but her presence was heavier—sharp, like a blade hidden beneath silk.
When Isabella leaned over her desk during first period with a honeyed smile, she whispered, "Did you even sleep last night? You look pale, dear sister."
Evelyn didn't flinch.
She smiled. Slow. Dangerous.
"Oh, dear sister," she murmured. "You should be more careful about the thorns you hide behind."
The smirk slipped off Isabella's face like a mask, momentarily stunned.
For the first time, Evelyn saw something in her eyes besides cruelty.
Fear.
That evening, twilight fell like a bruise across the Academy. Evelyn took the long path through the courtyard, cloak wrapped around her shoulders, but her thoughts were loud and racing.
The whisper of movement behind her made her stop.
She turned. The air was still. The shadows unmoved.
No one.
But on the cobbled path ahead of her, something lay across the stone.
A ribbon.
Midnight blue.
Her breath caught. It was identical to the one Alexander had given her. The one she'd left in the library. The one he returned.
Only this one… was soaked at the end. Red.
Evelyn stepped closer.
Blood.
Fresh.
She bent slowly to pick it up. Her hand hovered above it, but she didn't touch it. Her gaze swept the surrounding walls and trees, scanning for someone. Anyone.
Nothing.
Just the night.
But as the wind picked up, a voice whispered through it. Not from her mind. Real. Near.
"You should have stayed quiet, Evelyn."
She straightened, eyes blazing.
Whoever this was, they had made a mistake.
She wasn't the kind of girl to run.
She was the kind to fight.
And someone was about to regret thinking otherwise.