Ep 1

Chapter One — The Locker That Wasn't Mine

The first thing I noticed about Rosewood High wasn't the building.

It was the silence that hid beneath all the noise.

Hundreds of students moved through the halls like they'd been rehearsing for years — laughter too loud, footsteps too fast, conversations too easy. I stood there, clutching my backpack straps, trying to blend into a place that already felt allergic to new people.

I told myself to breathe.

New neighborhood. New school. New start.

Except I'd said that exact same thing before. And before that, too.

The smell of old textbooks and lemon disinfectant filled the air as I found my locker — 217. The metal was dented, scratched, painted over one too many times. Someone had written "forever tired" on it in black marker, which felt a little too relatable.

The hallway around me was alive — people hugging, gossiping, slamming lockers, shouting names. And yet, somehow, I felt like the ghost in the middle of it all.

"Hey, you're new, right?"

A voice came from beside me.

I turned to see a girl with curly brown hair tied up in two messy buns. She was holding a coffee cup and smiling like she already knew my life story.

"Yeah," I said quietly. "Zara."

"Cool. I'm Chloe. Locker buddy." She pointed to the one beside mine, number 216. "Welcome to Rosewood, population: drama and caffeine addiction."

I smiled a little. "Sounds… fun?"

"Oh, totally," she said, rolling her eyes. "You'll get used to it. Just don't make eye contact with the cheer squad during lunch. They feed on fear."

Her humor eased something inside me. Maybe, just maybe, I could survive here.

But that hope cracked when I opened my locker.

There was something already inside.

A folded piece of paper, pale blue and slightly crumpled.

At first, I thought it was from whoever used this locker before me. But when I picked it up, my stomach twisted.

On the outside, written in shaky ink, was a single number:

1.

I hesitated. My hands were cold. I opened it.

And it read:

> "He didn't leave. He was taken because of you."

The hallway noise faded.

My heart thudded in my ears, slow and heavy.

No one here should've known about Eli. Not a single person.

We moved to Rosewood for a reason — to escape the stares, the whispers, the pity.

My brother had been missing for one hundred and forty-three days.

One hundred and forty-three mornings of pretending everything was fine.

And now, this note.

Someone knew.

"Hey, you okay?" Chloe's voice pulled me back.

I blinked and shoved the paper deep into my jacket pocket. "Yeah. Just… dust."

She didn't look convinced, but the bell rang, saving me from more questions.

English class smelled like chalk and lavender hand sanitizer. I sat by the window, half-listening to the teacher talk about themes and symbolism. My mind was somewhere else — on that note, on Eli, on the way his voice had sounded the last time I heard it.

He'd said he was going out to meet someone.

He'd said he'd be home before dinner.

He never came back.

The police had searched. The neighborhood had whispered. Mom had stopped sleeping. And me? I'd stopped talking.

Everyone said he'd probably run away. But Eli wouldn't. Not him.

My eyes drifted toward the window, where sunlight painted gold stripes across the floor. A reflection caught my attention — someone standing outside, just beyond the courtyard fence.

A boy in a dark hoodie.

He wasn't moving. Just standing there, watching the classroom. Watching me.

For a second, our eyes met — or I thought they did. And then, just as the teacher turned toward the board, he was gone.

I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe my mind was just playing tricks again.

But when the final bell rang and I returned to my locker, there was another note taped to the door. Smaller this time.

The same blue paper. The same messy handwriting.

> "Find number two before they find you."

I stood there, frozen, my reflection trembling against the locker's metal.

And just like that, the fresh start I'd been hoping for disappeared — replaced by the same old shadow I thought I'd left behind.

Rosewood wasn't supposed to know my secrets.

But someone did.

And they were already one step ahead.

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