The fairground was alive with color and chaos—cotton candy clouds, laughter echoing from the Ferris wheel, and the scent of fried dough hanging thick in the air. But for Mira, the world had narrowed to a single moment.
She hit the ground hard.
Her palms scraped against gravel, her knees stung, and her breath caught in her throat. The girls from Willow Creek stood over her, their shadows long and cruel.
One of them—Jenna, the ringleader—smirked down at her. "Well, look at that. Bruised up and broken. Just like you always were."
Mira blinked back tears, her voice lost somewhere between shame and fury.
Across the fairground, Anne and Zahir stepped off the rollercoaster, still breathless from the ride. Anne's cheeks were flushed, her curls wind-tossed, and Zahir couldn't stop looking at her.
But then he saw Daniel.
Tall, confident, surrounded by his football friends, laughing like he owned the air around him.
Anne spotted him too. "Daniel!" she called, waving.
She ran to him, her smile bright, her steps light.
Zahir's heart clenched.
Daniel turned, his grin widening. "Anne! You made it."
Zahir followed slowly, his jaw tight.
Daniel's eyes flicked to Zahir, narrowing slightly. "Who's that?" he asked Mira, who had just limped over, brushing dirt from her jeans.
Mira glanced at Zahir, then back at Daniel. "A friend."
Daniel's gaze lingered on Zahir, then shifted to Anne. The look he gave her was sharp—possessive, hungry, laced with something that made Zahir's skin crawl.
Zahir stepped forward, placing himself between them.
Anne blinked. "Everything okay?"
Zahir forced a smile. "Want to play something?"
Anne nodded. "Let's do the gunshot game. I've always wanted to try it."
Daniel perked up. "Oh, I'm great at that."
Zahir raised an eyebrow. "We'll see."
The booth was loud and ridiculous—plastic rifles, tin cans stacked in pyramids, and a neon sign that read SHOOT TO WIN. Anne stood between them, laughing as the boys sized each other up.
Daniel grabbed a rifle. "Watch and learn."
Zahir took his time, adjusting his grip like he'd been trained by celestial snipers.
The first round was chaos—Daniel missed two cans, Zahir hit three but knocked over a stuffed unicorn instead of the prize bell. Anne doubled over laughing.
"You shot the mascot!" she giggled.
Zahir shrugged. "It was mocking me."
Daniel rolled his eyes. "Beginner's luck."
The second round was worse—Zahir's rifle jammed, Daniel sneezed mid-shot, and Anne ended up winning a plush cow just for laughing so hard.
Meanwhile, Brittany had arrived.
She spotted the girls still circling Mira, their voices sharp and cruel.
"Oh look," Jenna sneered. "The bruised queen's still crawling."
Brittany marched over, heels clicking like gunfire.
"Excuse me," she said, voice icy. "Is this the 'Jealous of Mira' fan club? Because you're doing a terrible job hiding it."
The girls turned. "What do you want, Brittany?"
Brittany crossed her arms. "To remind you that bullying someone who's already ten times cooler than you doesn't make you relevant. It makes you pathetic."
Jenna scoffed. "She's a liar."
"And you're a walking filter fail," Brittany snapped. "Now back off before I post your eighth-grade haircut online."
The girls blinked.
Mira stared.
Brittany leaned in. "Also, if you're going to insult someone, try not to sound like a rejected reality show contestant."
Jenna flushed. "Whatever."
The girls scattered.
Mira looked at Brittany, stunned. "Why did you…?"
Brittany shrugged. "Don't get used to it. I just hate amateurs."
Brittany stormed toward the game section, her eyes scanning for Daniel. She spotted him instantly—laughing with Anne, Zahir beside them, the plush cow in Anne's arms.
Her jaw clenched.
Daniel hadn't even looked for her.
She turned on her heel, her boots kicking up dust.
As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the fairground, Zahir felt it.
A pull.
A whisper.
He turned toward the woods beyond the booths, where the trees swayed without wind and the air shimmered faintly.
Something was there.
Watching.
Waiting.
Zahir's eyes narrowed.
The fair was far from over.
And something was coming.