The air in the classroom grew heavier each day Miss Aveline stood before them. Her presence seemed to cling to the walls, like smoke that wouldn't fade. Students whispered about her behind cupped hands, though none dared to let her hear.
That Monday morning, as the bell rang, Gabriel noticed Ryan leaning close to Mia, whispering fast.
"She's not normal," Ryan muttered. "Did you see how she kept smiling while that boy fell down the stairs yesterday? She didn't even flinch."
Mia's lips tightened. "You think she… wanted it to happen?"
"Not think," Ryan said. "I know. She's got this… control."
Gabriel slammed his book shut a little too hard. "Enough," he hissed. "You're just making it worse." But his eyes betrayed the unease in his voice.
The classroom door creaked. Miss Aveline walked in, her heels clicking like measured strikes of a clock. She paused at the blackboard and wrote in looping, delicate letters:
"The eyes see what the soul fears most."
Silence stretched like a noose around every throat.
"Read it," she commanded. Her gaze darted to Gemma, who sat at the back like stone. "You. Silent one. Read."
The room stiffened. Gemma did not move. Her hands folded neatly on the desk.
Aveline's smile curved, but it was cold, sharp. "Still no voice… Very well. Perhaps your friends will speak for you."
She spun toward Mia, eyes burning. "Tell us, child, what do your eyes see when you close them at night?"
Mia's throat bobbed. "I… I don't know."
"Liar," Aveline whispered, low but cutting. She leaned down, so close Mia recoiled. "You dream of drowning, don't you? Of water filling your lungs?"
Gasps echoed across the room.
Mia froze, color draining from her face. She had never told anyone that.
Ryan slammed his desk. "Stop it! You can't just—"
"Sit down," Aveline hissed, and Ryan's body stiffened unnaturally, his chair scraping backward as if shoved by invisible hands. He stumbled, nearly falling.
The students broke into murmurs, fear bubbling in their voices.
Gabriel stood halfway. "Leave them alone."
Aveline's eyes slid to him—dark, endless. "You think yourself brave, Gabriel. But you have no idea how fragile courage becomes when your family is touched."
Her glance flicked toward Gemma. Gabriel froze, his fists trembling.
The bell rang, shrill and sudden, shattering the tension. But no one moved, not until Aveline swept from the room, her perfume lingering like poison.
Only then did Mia whisper, her voice shaking:
"How did she… know."
Ryan muttered, "And she won't stop until someone else falls."
Gemma lowered her gaze, her pen moving across the page at last. A single line appeared in her notebook:
"It begins with whispers. It ends with silence."