The weekend was supposed to be a break. A chance to catch my breath, maybe even nap for longer than thirty seconds. But with the kind of trouble I attract, "quiet" is a relative term.
As soon as Friday afternoon's last bell rang, my phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.
"Meet me behind the chapel. Midnight. Come alone."
I frowned, fingers hovering over the screen. Was this some prank? A trap? Or maybe—just maybe—someone at St. Agatha's who actually wanted to talk to me without Sister Joan eavesdropping?
Phoenix was already texting me about some new band he'd found online, but this felt... different. Important. Dangerous.
Curiosity won.
That night, after lights out, I slipped out of the dorm, the old wooden floorboards creaking beneath my sneakers. The moon hung low, bathing the chapel in a ghostly silver glow.
Behind the chapel, the shadows shifted. A figure stepped forward — tall, cloaked in a hoodie, face hidden.
"Aria Wren?" The voice was low, urgent.
"Depends. Who's asking?" I kept my voice steady. "You're a long way from the glitter war."
The figure laughed softly. "You don't know the half of it. I'm someone who knows the truth about you."
"Great. Secret stalker hours," I muttered.
"No," they said, stepping closer, the hood falling back to reveal a sharp, serious face. "I'm Mira. I'm... someone who used to be like you. Reckless. Untouchable. Until it all went wrong."
Mira's eyes locked with mine. "You need to be careful, Aria. They're watching. And they don't like what you're doing."
"Who's watching?" I demanded, heart thudding.
"The people behind St. Agatha's. The ones who run this place from the shadows."
I blinked, skepticism rising. "You're telling me this school is some kind of secret lair?"
"Not just the school. The town. The whole system. There's a history here — one they don't want you to uncover."
I swallowed hard, the weight of her words settling in.
"Why tell me?"
"Because you're different. You don't play by their rules. And that makes you dangerous to them."
A gust of wind swept through the chapel yard, scattering leaves.
"Be careful, Aria. Trust no one. Not even the people you think you can."
And then she was gone, swallowed by the night.
---
Back in my room, I sat on my bed, mind racing.
Phoenix's texts blinked unanswered. Jade's silence felt louder than ever.
And now, this warning from a stranger who knew things I didn't.
I pulled out my sketchbook, flipping through pages filled with doodles, plans, and little notes about Bianca's latest freakout.
But now, new ideas sparked in my mind. Bigger than glitter bombs or sabotaged solos.
If there really was a shadow gripping St. Agatha's — maybe even my whole life — I needed to find out.
Because Aria Wren doesn't back down. Not from glitter. Not from gossip. And definitely not from secrets that could change everything.
---
The next morning, at breakfast, Phoenix caught my eye.
"You look like you met a ghost," he said, sliding into the seat beside me.
I shrugged. "Something like that."
He smiled, that easy grin that made me forget all the chaos.
"Whatever it is, you can tell me."
For a moment, I almost did.
But then I remembered Mira's warning.
"Thanks, but I've got it," I said, biting into my toast.
Phoenix nodded, but his eyes stayed on me, concerned.
Jace, meanwhile, was at the other end of the table, watching us both like a hawk.
Drama, secrets, glitter — it was all swirling into a perfect storm.
And I was right in the middle of it.