The air inside the old art room was heavy.
Dust hung in the dim light like ash. Torn canvases littered the floor. Paint-stained tables stood like forgotten altars.
And in the middle of it stood *Amira Samson*—no longer the quiet sketchbook girl from the past. She looked worn, hardened, like someone who had learned to survive in the shadows.
Nara stared at her. "You died."
Amira shook her head. "No. I disappeared."
Nara narrowed her eyes. "That's not what they said."
"They lied."
Her voice was low. Sharp. "Just like they lied about you."
A long silence.
Then Nara stepped closer. "So tell me. What did they do?"
---
*Three Years Ago – Amira's Truth*
Amira had found something she wasn't meant to find.
Sketching in the hallway after dark, as usual. She had a habit of drawing the truth—portraits of students being bullied, teachers covering things up. It was how she processed the chaos.
One night, she had wandered too close to the admin wing. Heard a conversation through the cracked door. Daniel's father. The principal and Mr. Adewale.They were talking about Nara. About the scholarship. About how she was "becoming a liability."
Amira made the mistake of drawing what she heard. The next day, her dorm room was searched. Her sketchbook was taken. Her parents were called.
Only… they never arrived.
Instead, a white van came.
She woke up two days later in a *private rehab facility* in another state—drugged, disoriented, and listed under a false name. For "mental instability."
She escaped two months later. Went underground. Changed her name. Erased her presence.
*But she never forgot.*
---
*Back to Present – Art Room*
"They didn't just want me gone," Amira said. "They wanted silence. They thought I'd stay hidden. But when I saw your face again—on the school forum, during that Daniel scandal—I knew it had to be you. Reborn or not."
Nara's mouth was dry.
"You… believe me?"
Amira's eyes sharpened. "I don't just believe you. I know."
She reached into her satchel and pulled out an old, battered *sketchbook*. Opened it to the last page.
A drawing of Nara—*on fire*, hands reaching out, eyes wide, dress melting.
"I saw it in my dreams. Over and over. For years."
Nara's heart pounded.
They weren't just survivors.
They were *connected.*
---
*The Pact*"
I want Rina," Amira said coldly. "She's the one who planted the necklace in your bag, right? The one who started the rumor that you seduced Daniel?"
Nara nodded. "She was the queen bee."
Amira smiled bitterly. "Then it's time we *break her crown*."
The two girls sat cross-legged on the paint-stained floor, a map of the school between them.
"Rina's still off school," Nara said. "She's hiding, pretending she's the victim. But she's weak now. Her social circle is splintering."
Amira opened her sketchbook again. "Then we tear it apart."
She flipped through pages — each one filled with detailed sketches of students, staff, hallways, and secrets.
Nara watched, stunned. "You drew all this?"
"I remember everything. Every locker code. Every escape route. Every sin."
The fire that had consumed them hadn't just burned.
*It had forged them.*
Two girls.
Two bodies left behind.
One mission:
**Rina Umeh.
The final matchstick.**
---
*Back in the Halls – The Calm Before the War*
Monday came like a warning.
Rina returned to school. Head high. Designer glasses. Perfect makeup.
But her usual crowd? Thinned out.