The most anticipated day of Grace Larson's life arrived with the sun, its rays seeping through the half-open window to warm her face. It worked.
She slowly opened her eyes, the sleepiness
dissipating in an instant as she stared at an unfamiliar ceiling. Right. This wasn't Petoskey.
A creature of a habit twitched in her muscles, the impulse to get up and prepare the bread dough, but she had no bakery to run today. She sat up and looked to her side.
Riley was still asleep, face buried in her pillow.
Grace washed up and slipped into the kitchen. It was simple and breathable, not too small but not overly large, with a big, practical counter.
Nicole had mentioned living here years ago with two friends while working as a pâtissier. Her mother's friend had kept it furnished, ready for them to move right in.
Grace was grateful they'd done the shopping yesterday; She pulled the pancake
batter from the fridge, the mundane task a flimsy shield against the phantom scent of blood still clinging to her memory.
Every normal action felt like a performance. A desperate attempt to convince herself last night was just a dream.
By 7 AM, pancakes were set aside for later, and Grace was brewing coffee, the only reliable way to wake her sister.
She carried two mugs back to the bedroom, set them carefully on the bedside table, and gave Riley's shoulder a gentle pat.
"Rileyy!.. It's time to wake up."
A muffled groan came from the pillow. "What time is it?"
"Uh, sev- it's 8. Wake up," Grace lied, a trick borrowed from their mother, weaponizing a little anxiety to get results.
"Yeah? Class starts at 10, Grace. Just go awayy!" Riley protested, her voice thick with sleep and annoyance.
Grace sighed, already exhausted by the mere thought of the university. "Trust me, I want to sleep just as much as you do.
But we already missed orientation by a week. You don't want to be late on the first real day too, do you?"
Riley let out a slow, dramatic tsk and sat up lazily. "It's times like this I miss Petoskey."
A small smile touched Grace's lips as she handed Riley the coffee. "Drink. Then freshen up. It's our first day."
That did it. Riley was now fully awake, her energy instantly eclipsing the last remnants of sleep.
She didn't have an ounce of her sister's anxiety; while Grace was fighting a private war inside, Riley was ready for her debut.
They got dressed; their outfits are a perfect reflection of their moods. Grace opted for comfort in a normal crop top and wide-legged jeans, while Riley radiated excitement in a sleeveless floral mini dress.
"Sis, how do I look?" Riley asked, grinning wide enough to show she already knew the answer.
"You look like an orangutan trying to cosplay as a summer garden," Grace deadpanned, fighting back a laugh.
Riley scoffed. "Says the one dressed like a retired librarian."
Grace chuckled, relenting. "Alright, no more jokes. Seriously, Riley. You're going to be the
college 'it' girl. Stunning."
"I know, right? I bought this with Leah last week!" She grabbed her lip gloss and tossed it to Grace. "Here, wear this."
Before Grace could form a reply, Riley dove for her ringing phone. "Hey Justin! Yeah, I'm
gonna be there today- oh yeah, I'm so excited-"
Grace looked at the lip gloss in her hand and mumbled a quiet, "Uh… thanks."
After one last check of their outfits, they headed out the door.
"Alright, we need to get to the bus stop," Grace said, pulling out her phone for directions.
Riley piped up almost immediately. "Hey, remember Justin?"
Grace nodded cautiously. "Yeah? What about him?"
"You know, from back in town? His dad had that huge mansion?" Riley continued; her voice a little too casual.
"Get to the point, Riley," Grace said, her tone switching between casual to steady. A familiar, protective seriousness tightened her voice.
"Gracie, he's a really good guy now! He's not indecent at all, I promise. So… he's gonna pick us up."
Grace let out a heavy sigh and shook her head. "Riley, he was a lunatic back in town."
"Gracie, we've been talking! For weeks! Yeah, he was a jerk in school, but that was, like, two
years ago! He's never been anything but sweet to me, not once! Just... trust me on this, please?"
Texting him? Meeting him? The revelation landed like a punch. This wasn't a sudden whim; it was a premeditated betrayal of her unspoken rule.
Riley had already let the fox into the henhouse
and was only now asking for permission.
Grace finally gave up with a reluctant, "Alright, let's go." She was not convinced yet agreed,
because she needed to see for herself.
Was he truly a changed man? Or was he still the same arrogant kid who thought his father's money gave him the right to corner girls in hallways and stare blatantly at their chests? She'd be watching him like a hawk, scanning for the tells of the boy she
remembered.
Within minutes, a sleek silver Mercedes pulled up to the curb, the kind of car that didn't just announce wealth; it shouted it from a megaphone.
Grace's crossed arms fell to her sides,
momentarily taken aback. Well, that's certainly a statement, she thought, a grudging
acknowledgment of the car's imposing presence.
Riley shot her a triumphant 'See? I told you he
was legit' look. Grace responded with a slight, wary shake of her head.
The passenger window slid down, revealing a young man who looked older than his eighteen years, a pair of stylish glasses perched on his nose.
His eyes found Riley first, eyebrows rising
with a look of genuine, unexaggerated surprise. "Riley, you look amazing," he said, his tone landing just right.
Then his gaze shifted to Grace. "Oh, hey, Grace. You're here too." The sarcasm was subtle, a ghost of a dig, but it was there.
Grace rolled her eyes and served it right back with a saccharine-sweet, sarcastic smile. "What can I say? Someone's got to save my sister from the local wildlife."
Riley glared. "What?" She mouthed.
Justin just laughed it off smoothly. "Alright, ladies, get in."
Grace slid into the backseat, a deliberate choice, as Riley claimed the spot next to Justin. As they drove off, Justin and Riley fell into easy chatter and laughter.
Grace turned to the window, watching the immense cityscape loom around them. The buildings were like silent, judging giants, towering over her tiny existence.
For a fleeting moment, she calculated the time it would take to get back to Petoskey, back to her mom.
But then the memory surfaced, vivid and painful: Nicole, a week ago, so consumed by a frantic, desperate terror that she hadn't eaten or slept; her pleas for them to leave becoming hysterical.
It was the most extreme thing Grace had ever seen her do. The memory was somehow more unsettling than the dreams themselves, a chilling real-world anchor for all her unease.
The twenty-minute drive did nothing to ease Grace's unease.
By the time they reached the university, it had multiplied tenfold, a heavy, living weight twisting in her gut, The casual chatter
between Justin and Riley revealed the final, sickening piece of the puzzle: their class schedules were almost identical, while Grace and Riley didn't share a single one.
Regret, sharp and acidic, boiled in Grace's stomach. She never should have let Riley handle the registration.
"Alright, ladies, hop out here. I've got to go park my baby," Justin said, playfully patting the steering wheel before driving off.
"We're finally here!" Riley chirped, all bright eyes and excitement."Yes," Grace countered, her voice flat and heavy. "We are."
Riley glanced at her, a flicker of guilt in her eyes. "Oh, come on, Gracie, man up! We're gonna have fun… separately." She tacked on the last word, immediately avoiding eye contact.
As if summoned by Riley's silent prayer for an escape, her phone rang. "Gracie, I'll see you
later! My class is about to start; you should go too!" And before Grace could form a single
syllable of protest, Riley had vanished into the stream of students.
"Did she just… ditch me?" Grace mumbled, the disbelief, a cold stone in her throat.
Okay, calm down, Gracie. You've got this, she told herself, a feeble whisper against the roaring tide in her mind.
Oh, no. No, no, no. I'm going to have a panic attack.
The siren in her head was screaming now. All around her, a sea of strangers ebbed and flowed, their laughter and conversations a distant, muffled roar.
She gulped down the rising nausea and
fumbled for her phone, the screen blurring. Literature. Angel Hall. Room 3187.
She started walking. her head down, focusing on the cracks in the pavement to avoid the faces around her One step. Two. Ten.
Suddenly, a chill, sharp as a shard of ice, ran down her spine.
Humans are strange creatures. They don't need to see to know. Their instincts, that ancient, primal gut feeling, scream a warning, and for women, that scream is a survival tool honed over millennia.
Right now, every fiber of Grace's being was screaming. She felt it, a stare, heavy and intent, drilling into her back.
She knew, with terrifying certainty, that if she turned around, she would meet the eyes of whoever was watching.
Fifty steps. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, trapped bird. The silent stare had now morphed into the sound of footsteps, deliberate, steady, and unmistakably following the rhythm of her own.
As she neared her classroom, the footsteps behind her quickened, matching her rising pulse.
A frantic debate erupted in her mind. Don't be an idiot, Grace. There are students everywhere.
You're in a crowded hallway, not a horror movie. Your brain is framing a threat where there is none.
With a final, desperate act of will, she forced herself to spin around.
And she saw a guy. Just a normal student in grey sweatpants, headphones over his ears, a
backpack slung over one shoulder.
He was the one who had been matching her pace. A sigh of relief was already forming in her chest when her eyes dropped to his feet.
He was wearing sneakers.
The air froze in her lungs. Did I just imagine the boot's click? The thought was a cold shiver down her spine.
This wasn't a relief; it was a different kind of terror. If the sound wasn't real, then her senses, her only anchors, were lying to her.
Had her anxiety finally escalated to full-
blown hallucinations?
Just as she was about to drown in the terrifying thought, a hand touched her shoulder.
Her heart launched into her throat, a solid, painful block of terror.
She froze.
A voice accompanied the hand on her shoulder not threatening or deep, but a familiar female tone. "Grace?"
She turned in an instant, the sound a lifeline thrown to her drowning senses.
"Megan?" It was a shock to see her here. Grace knew her former classmate was enrolled, but she hadn't expected a friendly face so soon.
Megan looked equally surprised. "Gosh! What a sweet surprise!"
Grace's uneasiness faded a fraction. "Yeah! It's great to see you again," she said, her voice a forced calm.
Megan, ever observant, didn't buy it. "Hey? You look terrified. Is everything okay?"
Grace managed a tight smile and a nod. "Yeah, yeah, everything's good. You must be a junior now, no?"
"Yep. Oh, it's getting late," Megan said, grabbing her arm. "Come on, let's get in. We'll talk inside."
She pulled Grace toward the door. A new, icy fear seized Grace. If she looked now and saw no one who looked out of place, it meant the clicking boot, the feeling of being watched; it was all in her head.
Her anxiety hadn't just spiked; it had mutated, making her hear things that weren't
there. But if she looked... and did see a suspicious figure? That was a different, more primal terror.
The choice was unbearable: the slow unraveling of her mind, or the confirmation of a very real monster.
A sob lodged in her throat. She felt like crying, like screaming. But she had to know. With a
final, desperate act of will, she glanced over her shoulder.
And she saw him.
The volcano of dread inside her erupted. She locked eyes with a man standing at the far end of the hall. She couldn't clearly make out his outfit, but his posture was unnervingly still.
He wore a black cap and a black mask that obscured his face.
But just before she was pulled inside, in a
split fraction of a second, she saw the skin around his eyes crinkle.
He was grinning beneath that mask.