Chapter Three - Whispers in the Halls

Lina’s first afternoon at St. Mary crawled by like a nightmare she couldn’t wake from. Classes ended, yet the tension lingered, as if the walls themselves still vibrated from the unseen chalk scratching across them. She followed the other students back to the dormitories, her body heavy with exhaustion, her mind tangled in fear.

Daniel had vanished as quickly as he’d appeared, muttering something about being careful who saw him with her. That left Lina alone again, her footsteps echoing down the long, dim corridors.

The school was a labyrinth. Staircases doubled back on themselves, doors opened into empty rooms lined with broken desks, and portraits seemed to hang in places she didn’t remember passing earlier. The deeper she walked, the more she felt the school rearrange itself around her.

By the time she reached her dormitory, the corridor was empty. A draft swept down it, making the old lamps flicker. Lina unlocked her door and slipped inside, shutting it quickly behind her.

She sank onto the bed and pressed her palms against her face. She needed to breathe, to think.

Julia Ashworth. The name burned in her mind. Why had the headmistress called it? Why did everyone react with fear, but no one dared speak of it?

Her stomach growled, dragging her back to reality. The cafeteria food had been nearly inedible, and she hadn’t eaten much. With a sigh, she dug into her bag and pulled out the packet of crackers she had packed from home.

That was when she heard it.

Psst.

The sound was faint, coming from the direction of the wardrobe.

Her chest tightened. Slowly, she turned her head. The wardrobe stood closed, but shadows shifted along its bottom seam.

Psst… Lina…

Her name again. She dropped the crackers onto the bed, her hands trembling. “Who’s there?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The room went cold. Her breath clouded. The lamp on the desk flickered once, twice, then went out, plunging her into darkness.

Lina scrambled for the matches she had seen on the desk earlier. Her fingers struck one against the box, and the flame burst to life, casting trembling light.

The wardrobe door creaked open. Just a fraction.

Inside, the darkness seemed to breathe.

And then—nothing. No figure stepped out. No voice whispered again.

The match burned down to her fingertips, and she hissed, shaking it out. In the silence that followed, she realized she wasn’t alone.

Her reflection stared at her from the mirror across the room. But it wasn’t moving with her.

The other Lina stood motionless, her dark hair hanging damply around her face, her eyes wide and unblinking. The corners of her mouth twitched into a grim smile.

Lina stumbled back against the bed, her heart hammering. “Stop it,” she gasped. “You’re not real.”

The reflection tilted its head.

And then the glass cracked—just once, a hairline fracture crawling across it like a vein. The sound was sharp, final.

She bolted for the door, throwing it open and rushing into the corridor. Her shoes clattered on the wooden floor as she ran blindly, anywhere that wasn’t her room.

The hallways seemed endless, stretching longer than they should, each door identical to the last. Panic rose in her throat. She turned a corner and nearly collided with someone.

Daniel.

He steadied her, his brow furrowed. “Whoa, hey! What happened?”

Her voice shook. “There was—someone—in my room. In the mirror. I swear—”

Daniel glanced around, then pulled her into an empty classroom, shutting the door behind them. “Keep your voice down. If anyone hears you talking like that, you’ll be labeled crazy by morning.”

“I’m not crazy,” she snapped, though her trembling hands betrayed her. “Something’s wrong with this place. It’s her, isn’t it? Julia.”

Daniel’s jaw tightened. “Yeah. It’s her.”

Finally, someone said the name without flinching. Lina clung to that. “What happened to her?”

He hesitated, pacing. The classroom was lined with dust-coated desks, their surfaces carved with decades of initials. The blackboard at the front was blank, though chalk dust lingered in the air.

“She died,” Daniel said at last. “But no one will tell you how. Officially, it was an accident. Fell from the bell tower during evening roll call, they say. But everyone knows that’s a lie.”

Lina’s blood ran cold. “A lie?”

He nodded grimly. “She was different. Too smart, too outspoken. She didn’t fit in. People made her life hell here. And when she… went missing, the staff covered it up. Said she couldn’t handle the pressure. But the truth is…” He stopped himself, glancing at the door as though afraid someone was listening.

“The truth is what?” Lina pressed.

Daniel lowered his voice to a whisper. “Some say she was pushed.”

The words struck Lina like ice water. Pushed. Murdered.

“And now she’s—what? Taking revenge?”

Daniel’s eyes darkened. “Wouldn’t you, if you’d been forgotten? If no one answered your name?”

A silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.

Then, without warning, the blackboard at the front of the room screeched.

Both of them spun toward it. A line of chalk, invisible in the air, dragged itself across the surface. Letters appeared, jagged and uneven.

ANSWER ME.

The chalk dropped to the floor, shattering.

Lina’s heart thundered. Daniel swore under his breath.

The classroom door rattled violently, though no one touched it. The sound echoed down the corridor beyond, like a thousand fists pounding in unison.