The moment I walked through the school gates, a strange sensation washed over me. It wasn't quite fear, but an unsettling feeling that made the hair on the back of my neck prickle. My instincts told me something was off, and I couldn't shake the unease, no matter how hard I tried.
As I made my way down the crowded hallway, I noticed a woman standing near the entrance, half-hidden in the shadows. She was wearing a long, dark trench coat that hugged her figure, paired with high-heeled boots that clicked on the floor with each deliberate step. A wide-brimmed black hat sat low on her head, obscuring most of her face. Only her lips—painted a deep crimson—were visible beneath the shadow cast by the brim. A black scarf wound around her neck, completing the look of someone who didn't want to be recognized.
The woman pulled out her phone, her gloved fingers dialing a number. I caught a fragment of her hushed conversation as I passed.
