Harper had never been afraid of paper before.
But the notebook—her notebook—sat between them like a loaded weapon. Jamie kept staring at his name, like it might rearrange itself into something safer. Something explainable.
It didn't.
"So what now?" he asked, voice low.
"I don't know," Harper admitted. "But that's not the only thing."
She flipped to the last page and pointed to a name scrawled sideways in the margins:
Eva Marrow – 10/5
"Tomorrow," Jamie said. "That's… tomorrow."
"Have you heard that name before?"
He shook his head. "No. But this—this feels like a countdown."
Harper leaned back, mind racing. If these were warnings, and Jamie's date was *today*… what did that mean for him?
A shadow of dread crept across her thoughts.
"What class do you have next?" she asked.
"Art studio. West block. Near the greenhouse."
"Stay out of that hallway. Seriously."
Jamie raised an eyebrow but nodded. "I'll skip. Not like Mr. Simons notices."
Harper snapped the notebook shut and slid it back into her bag. "We need to find Eva Marrow. If she's next, maybe she knows *something*."
"But we don't even know what she looks like."
"She'll stand out," Harper said. "It's how the others started. The people who were on the edge. Different."
Jamie tilted his head. "And what about you? Were *you* different?"
She almost laughed.
"I was invisible."
They searched during break.
Harper and Jamie moved through the school like ghosts—hovering outside classrooms, scanning faces in the cafeteria, listening to names as teachers took attendance. It felt hopeless.
Until Harper saw her.
Standing at the edge of the quad.
Wearing a bright red jacket in the middle of October heat.
Alone. Just watching the sky.
"That has to be her," Harper whispered. "Who wears red like that when everyone else is in uniform?"
They approached slowly.
"Eva Marrow?" Harper asked.
The girl turned. She had dark curls, eyes too sharp for her age, and a wary tilt to her mouth.
"Yeah?" she said cautiously.
"I—I think you're in danger."
Eva blinked. "Okay… random."
Harper rushed forward. "Listen, I know this sounds insane, but there's something going on at this school. Something wrong. I disappeared for a week and no one remembered me. My dorm? Gone. My records? Deleted. And your name—"
She stopped. Jamie subtly nudged her.
Eva's expression had changed. Not confused.
Not scared.
Interested.
"You saw the notebook," Eva said softly.
Harper froze. "Wait—what?"
Eva glanced around, then nodded to the bench beneath the clock tower. "We can't talk here. Too many ears. Come on."
They sat in the shadow of the tower, Eva's red jacket like a flag waving at the unknown.
"I was wondering when you'd show up," Eva said. "I saw you in the library yesterday. Reading the yearbook."
"I didn't see you."
"That's because I didn't want to be seen."
Jamie gave Harper a look. She ignored it.
"How do you know about the notebook?" Harper asked.
"Because I had one too," Eva said simply. "Last year."
Harper's throat went dry. "You…?"
"I wrote names in it. Dates. My own handwriting, same as you. And people vanished. One by one. Some came back. Most didn't."
Jamie leaned in. "Do you know what Room 13A is?"
Eva hesitated. "I think it's a bridge. Between versions. Between who we are and who we could've been. Sometimes, it keeps a version of you that no one else remembers."
"That's exactly what happened to me," Harper whispered.
"I know," Eva said. "I remember you."
Harper's head jerked up. "You do?"
Eva nodded slowly. "You were the girl who used to doodle symbols in the back row of Ancient History. You once corrected Mr. Blake on a Roman date, and he looked like he wanted to cry."
Harper's heart slammed.
Someone remembered her.
Someone finally remembered her.
Tears stung her eyes, sudden and uninvited. Jamie rested a hand on her shoulder.
"I don't know why I remember," Eva said. "But I do. And if you're back—really back—then you don't have much time."
"Time before what?"
"Before it comes looking for you again."
That night, Harper sat on her bed, staring at the ceiling, the symbols she'd once drawn still glowing faintly in her memory.
One week gone.
A missing room.
A girl in red who remembered.
And a list that was still counting down.
She opened the notebook.
The ink on Jamie's name had changed.
It was now underlined.
And beneath Eva's?
A new name had appeared.
Harper Quinn – 10/7
Two days from that very day...