Lena sat in the back of the classroom, her gaze fixed on the rain-drenched window as the teacher droned on about world history. The sound of chalk on the board was barely audible over the steady patter of rain against the glass. Elmswater seemed to exist in a perpetual state of gray, the storm clouds never quite lifting, as if the town itself was submerged beneath the weight of the sky.
She hadn't been able to shake the memory of the girl by the lake. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw those sharp, gleaming eyes and the blood. The rawness of it all gnawed at her, unsettling her in ways she couldn't explain. She couldn't talk about it—not to her parents, not to the few students she had barely spoken to since moving here. Who would believe her? She wasn't even sure she believed it herself.
Lena tried to force her thoughts back to the lesson, but something pulled her attention away. The door to the classroom creaked open, and she heard the muffled footsteps of someone entering. Curious, she glanced up.
Her breath caught in her throat.
It was her.
The girl from the lake.
Mira.
Lena's fingers clenched around the edge of her desk as she watched Mira walk in, her expression cool and unreadable. She wore the same uniform as the other students, her long dark hair hanging in loose waves around her shoulders. But those eyes—those unnervingly bright eyes—stood out, even in the fluorescent light of the classroom. They weren't monstrous now, but there was something about them, something Lena couldn't forget.
Mira scanned the room with a casual indifference before walking toward an empty desk near the front. For a split second, her gaze met Lena's. Lena's stomach twisted, a cold knot forming inside her. But Mira's expression didn't change—no sign of recognition, no hint that she knew Lena had seen her by the lake. It was as if they were strangers.
Lena let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Maybe she was a stranger to Mira. Maybe that girl—that thing—had wiped away her memory, just as Mira had done to others before her. She had read about that—mythical creatures erasing memories to keep their secrets safe. It seemed far-fetched, but after what she had witnessed, Lena wasn't ready to dismiss any possibility.
For the rest of the class, Lena kept her head down, avoiding any further glances at Mira. But the tension lingered, pressing down on her like the air before a storm. The girl—the creature—was sitting no more than a few feet away from her, yet the distance between them felt vast, an uncrossable chasm filled with secrets and danger.
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The school day dragged on, each minute stretching into the next as Lena's thoughts spiraled. She couldn't escape the memory of the lake, the blood, the inhuman hunger. She found herself avoiding the hallway where Mira's locker was, taking a longer route to get to her own. At lunch, she sat alone at her usual spot by the windows, her sandwich untouched.
Mira didn't approach her. She never even looked in Lena's direction. She blended in seamlessly with the other students, smiling and laughing with a group of girls who seemed instantly drawn to her. Lena watched from a distance, unease gnawing at her gut. Mira was pretending—hiding in plain sight, like a predator among prey. And no one else seemed to notice.
The bell rang, pulling Lena from her thoughts. She gathered her things and made a beeline for the exit. All she wanted was to get away—to put as much distance as possible between herself and the creature she now knew walked among them.
As she hurried down the corridor, a voice stopped her in her tracks.
"Lena."
She froze, her heart stuttering in her chest. Slowly, she turned, already knowing who she would see.
Mira stood there, just a few feet away. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a strange intensity in her eyes, something that made Lena's pulse quicken. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but her feet stayed planted, locked in place.
"We haven't really met, have we?" Mira's voice was soft, almost musical, but there was an edge to it. "I'm Mira."
Lena swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She tried to say something, but the words stuck in her throat. She wasn't ready for this—wasn't ready to face her.
"I've noticed you avoid me," Mira continued, tilting her head slightly as if studying Lena. "Did I… do something to offend you?"
There was something dark lurking beneath Mira's words, a subtle challenge, as if she already knew the answer. Lena's mind raced. Did Mira truly not remember that day by the lake? Or was this some kind of test? She couldn't tell. The uncertainty gnawed at her, but she couldn't let Mira see her fear.
"I—no," Lena finally managed, her voice strained. "I'm just… I've been busy. That's all."
Mira's gaze lingered on her, sharp and piercing. "Busy. Right." She smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Well, if you ever decide you want to talk, I'm around."
With that, Mira turned and walked away, her steps light and graceful, like the rain that never seemed to stop falling in Elmswater. Lena stood frozen for a moment longer, her heart still pounding. She didn't believe for a second that Mira had bought her excuse. There was something dangerous behind that smile, something Lena wasn't sure she was ready to face.
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That evening, Lena found herself back at the lake. It was as if something was pulling her there, a force she couldn't quite resist. The rain had finally stopped, leaving the air damp and heavy. The lake's surface was still, an unbroken mirror that reflected the cloudy sky above.
She stood on the shore, staring out at the water, her thoughts a tangled mess of fear and confusion. Why hadn't Mira confronted her directly? Why pretend that nothing had happened, that Lena hadn't seen the truth?
And why couldn't Lena bring herself to tell anyone?
She hugged her arms around herself, feeling the chill of the evening seep into her bones. No matter how hard she tried to push it down, the image of Mira—the real Mira—kept resurfacing in her mind. The blood, the hunger, those predatory eyes.
Mira was dangerous. That much was clear. But there was something else, too—something that kept Lena from running, from leaving this all behind. She didn't understand it yet, but she knew one thing for certain.
This wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.
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Lena stood at the lake's edge for what felt like hours, her thoughts spiraling in circles. She didn't hear the soft footsteps behind her until it was too late.
"Lena."
Her name, spoken softly, sent a jolt of fear through her. She turned sharply, her heart leaping into her throat.
Mira stood there, her dark eyes reflecting the faint glow of the setting sun. There was no smile on her face this time, no pretense of normalcy. Just a quiet intensity that made Lena's skin prickle with unease.
"You saw me, didn't you?"
Lena's breath caught, her body going rigid. The truth, unspoken until now, hung between them, thick and heavy.
"I—" Lena stammered, her mind racing.
Mira took a step closer, her gaze never leaving Lena's. "You saw me that day at the lake."
Lena's throat tightened. She couldn't deny it, not anymore. The weight of the secret was too much to carry.
"I did."
For a long moment, Mira didn't move. Her expression remained unreadable, but something dark flickered in her eyes—something Lena couldn't quite name. Then, slowly, Mira exhaled, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction.
"I won't hurt you," Mira said softly, though there was an edge to her voice that made Lena doubt the sincerity of her words. "I could have, but I didn't."
Lena's heart raced, her pulse pounding in her ears. She wasn't sure if she believed Mira. She wasn't sure if she could trust her.
But one thing was clear: the distance between them was shrinking, whether Lena wanted it to or not.
And there was no going back now.