I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, please. Says the girl who got fingered by Chris behind the art block.”
Sasha blushed so hard she practically glowed. “That was one time. And it wasn’t even real sex.”
“Mmmhmm,” I hummed, grinning now. “You know, maybe I should tell Chris about your little fantasy. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help.”
She rolled her eyes, hiding her face behind her book, but I saw the way her lips curved.
We continued reading and whispering, getting lost in our study material until the sun dipped low and shadows stretched across the library walls. I glanced at the time. 7:04 p.m.
“Let’s go,” I said, stretching my arms. “Ryan should be here any moment now. Is Chris picking you up?”
“Not really,” Sasha said, closing her book. “The bar is busy today. He said he might not be able to make it.”
“Ohh… then just follow us. Ryan can drop you off at the dorm.”
“Alright,” she nodded, tossing her bag strap over her shoulder. “Help me pack? I want to quickly use the restroom.”
“Sure.”
I gathered up our books and slid them into our bags while Sasha disappeared down the hallway toward the bathrooms.
Minutes passed. Then more minutes.
My phone buzzed.
Ryan: Outside. You ready?
I glanced at the hallway. Still no sign of Sasha. I called her number, but the ringtone echoed beside me. Her phone was still here.
“Shit,” I muttered, frowning. She never went anywhere without her phone.
I stood, slinging both our bags over my shoulder, and walked toward the bathroom. I pushed open the door.
Empty.
The stalls were all open. Clean. Silent.
“Sasha?” I called out, my voice bouncing back at me.
Nothing.
I was about to head back when I heard a sound.
A soft, muffled noise.
Like someone struggling.
It came from around the corner, the janitor’s store.
I hesitated. My brain immediately tried to rationalize it. Maybe it was a couple hooking up. Maybe I should mind my business.
But then I heard it again.
A faint whimper.
“Anna!” Sasha’s voice, low and panicked.
My heart slammed into my ribs as I sprinted toward the janitor’s store. The door was locked. I tried the handle again, jiggling it. Nothing. Locked from the inside.
I pounded on it. “Sasha?! Sasha, open up!”
“Help! Anna, she’s-“
I didn’t wait.
I took a step back and slammed my shoulder against the door. Once. Twice. The third time, it cracked open with a loud snap.
And what I saw made me freeze.
Sasha was on the floor, her arms pinned behind her by someone dressed in full black. A black hoodie. Black jeans. Black face cap. A mask over the lower half of her face. A knife pressed tightly against Sasha’s throat.
“What the fuck?!” I screamed.
The person turned their head slowly, their eyes locked on mine. Cold. Calm. Almost amused.
“It was so fucking easy to get you,” she said, voice dripping with venom.
Then she pulled off her mask.
And my stomach dropped.
I gasped.
I knew that face.
I knew those eyes.
“S-Sophie?” I stammered, my entire body stiffening as the face behind the mask became clear. My breath hitched in my throat, and I stumbled backward, clutching the doorframe.
She tilted her head, grinning like she was enjoying every ounce of fear on my face. “Who else? Thought I was dead, didn’t you?”
My throat went dry. “But… you died.”
“Wrong,” she said, her voice sharp and mocking. “We had a secret hideout in that house, a basement under the west wing. I hid there. But the fire…” she chuckled darkly, dragging Sasha closer as the blade pressed tighter against her neck, “let’s just say Daddy dearest wasn’t as lucky as me. It got him… and his loyal guard. They burned. I didn’t. Well- not completely.”
I stared at her, frozen. The right side of her face was melted, twisted, the skin tight and uneven. She didn’t look human anymore.
“What do you want, Sophie?” My voice came out low, shaky but firm enough. “Why are you here?”
Her laugh was hollow and ugly. “What do I want? I want you dead, Anna. Just like you killed my dad.”
Sasha whimpered, her eyes wide with panic as the knife dug into her skin, a thin line of blood forming at her throat.
“Leave her out of this,” I said quickly, stepping forward. “She’s got nothing to do with this. This is between you and me, Sophie. You want me? Then take me.’”
Sophie tilted her head again, that twisted grin spreading wider. “Like you have a choice. Like she has a choice. You took everything from me, Anna. Everything. And now you think you get to decide who lives and who dies?”
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