The sterile hospital room felt suffocating, the lingering scent of antiseptic making my stomach churn. I lay there, my mind still spinning from everything that had happened. Mrs. Black sat beside me, her hand resting gently on mine, while Mr. Black stood by the window, his arms crossed, worry etched on his face.
It wasn't long before there was a knock at the door. I stiffened, already knowing who it would be. The door creaked open, and Officer Hallowe stepped in, his presence casting a heavy shadow over the room.
"Mia," he said, his voice too casual, too controlled, "I just need to ask you a few questions."
I sat up straighter, my pulse quickening. "Why?"
He pulled out his notepad, flipping it open. "It's regarding Hannah. As you probably know, she's been missing since last night, and some students mentioned that you two had an altercation recently."
I bit back the urge to laugh bitterly. Of course, they'd focus on me. Of course, now that someone like Hannah was involved, suddenly everything was a priority. "An altercation?" I repeated, my voice cold. "She pushed me against a locker and called me names. That's not an altercation; that's bullying."
Hallowe raised an eyebrow. "Still, I need to know where you were last night."
I stared at him, disbelief washing over me. "You're serious? Are you questioning me about this? Where was this energy when I was assaulted?"
Hallowe's eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms. "I'm doing my job, Mia. This is standard procedure."
I couldn't hold it in anymore. The anger, the frustration, the injustice of it all boiled over. "Your job?" I snapped, my voice rising. "Where was your so-called 'job' when I needed you? When I told you what happened? You didn't care then! But now, because it's Hannah—someone important—you're suddenly Mr. Good Cop?"
His jaw tightened, but he didn't back down. "It's not about who's important, Mia. We found roofies in your water bottle—the one you took to the gym."
I froze, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut.
Hallowe continued, his voice steady, like he was reciting facts from a case file. "Chad Turner said it was consensual. He claims you agreed to everything."
The room tilted. My chest tightened, and I felt like I couldn't breathe. "Consensual?" I choked out, my voice breaking. "He's lying! You have to believe me—he's lying!"
Before Hallowe could respond, the door burst open. Mrs. Black shot up from her chair, her face flushed with anger, and Mr. Black followed, his expression stern.
"That's enough," Mrs. Black said, her voice sharp, stepping protectively in front of me. "This is not the time or place, Officer. She's still recovering. You need to leave."
Hallowe didn't move immediately, his eyes still locked on mine, but after a tense moment, he nodded slowly. "We're not done here, Mia," he said, his voice low as he turned to leave. "I'll be back."
As the door clicked shut behind him, I collapsed back against the bed, my body trembling.
The next morning, I was discharged from the hospital. Mrs Black drove me home in silence, her usual gentle chatter replaced with worried glances in the rearview mirror. I stared out the window, trying to ignore the questions racing through my mind. No exams today. Thank God. At least I could spend the day studying for the next one without the stares, the whispers, or the cold indifference of my classmates.
But even as I walked through the front door of the Blacks' house and headed straight to my room, the thought of studying felt impossible. My mind kept drifting back to Hannah. Where did she go? What happened to her? And why did Officer Hallowe seem so certain I was involved?
That night, Andy came to visit. She bounced into my room like a burst of sunshine, as usual, carrying snacks and an old movie she knew I liked. We talked for a while, mostly about school and how weird the calculus exam was. She made me laugh a little, but my mind kept returning to the same, nagging thought: Hannah.
Andy noticed, of course. She always did. "Hey," she said, her voice soft, but curious. "You're somewhere else tonight. What's going on?"
I hesitated, unsure how to explain everything swirling in my head. I hugged a pillow to my chest, my fingers fidgeting with the fabric. "It's about Hannah... the day she went missing."
Andy raised an eyebrow. "What about her?"
Taking a deep breath, I said, "The night she disappeared, she posted a TikTok about me. Mocking me. Making fun of everything." I swallowed hard, my voice shaking. "I blocked her account right after I saw it, but... now Officer Hallowe's acting like it's connected. He's suspecting me."
Andy frowned, her eyes narrowing. "Wait, what? Why? Just because she mocked you, and then she disappeared? That's insane."
"I know," I said, my voice low. "But the timing is weird, isn't it? I blocked her, and now she's gone. And they found roofies in my water bottle after the—" I stopped myself, not wanting to say it out loud.
Andy reached over, placing a hand on my arm. "Mia, that doesn't mean anything. Hallowe's just looking for an easy answer. It doesn't mean you had anything to do with what happened to her. You know that, right?"
I bit my lip, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten. "But why does it feel like... like it's my fault somehow? I just keep thinking—what if something happened to her because of me?"
Andy shook her head firmly. "No way. Don't let them make you believe that. Hannah had her mess of problems. Whatever happened, it's not on you."
The exam went okay. Not great, but okay. It was hard to focus, with everything that had been happening. As soon as I handed in my paper and walked out into the hallway, I saw the tension. People were whispering to each other, heads turned, eyes wide with shock. Something had shifted while I'd been in that exam room.
Officers were standing near the entrance, talking quietly among themselves. I caught sight of Officer Hallowe, the detective from my case, standing with a few other cops. That knot of anxiety I'd felt earlier twisted tighter in my gut.
"They still can't find her," someone whispered behind me. "It's like she just vanished."
I slowed my steps, pretending not to listen but taking in every word.
"How does someone disappear like that?" another voice murmured. "No trace, no nothing... just gone."
Hannah. She was still missing.
I continued walking, hearing the whispers multiply as more people poured into the hallway. Everyone seemed to be talking about the same thing: how could a girl just vanish without a trace? No one could make sense of it. There were no footprints, no signs of a struggle, nothing. It was like she'd been erased.
I stopped by my locker, my hand hovering over the lock as I watched the officers from the corner of my eye. The hallway felt suffocating, with every conversation, every glance, focused on one thing—Hannah. The girl who had tormented me was now the centre of attention, but for a reason, no one could have predicted.
And even though she had hurt me, even though I should've felt some twisted sense of relief, all I felt was a deep, gnawing unease.
How could someone disappear like that? And why did it feel like everything was about to get even worse?