By the end of the week, the list began to surface.
It did not come all at once. Names appeared in fragments, whispered in hallways, hinted at in group chats that vanished as quickly as they formed. People who had laughed at the edited video. People who had shared it without question. People who had helped bury the truth when it mattered most.
Maya felt each name like a small cut.
Some of them had smiled at her before. Some had sat beside her in class. One had borrowed her notes.
Liam noticed the change in her immediately.
You cannot carry all of this, he told her quietly as they walked toward the library after school.
It feels personal, she replied. Like I trusted the wrong people.
That does not make you foolish. It makes you human.
They settled into the far corner of the library, a place where the shadows were soft and the noise faded into background hum. Maya pretended to read, but her eyes kept drifting back to Liam.
There was something about him lately that felt different.
Not colder. Not distant.
More watchful.
She caught him glancing up more often. Listening more closely. Like someone waiting for something to break.
You are on edge, she said finally.
He looked at her. You are observant.
I am serious.
So am I.
She closed her book. What are you not telling me?
He studied her for a long moment, then leaned back in his chair.
Someone tried to access the backup server last night.
Maya's stomach dropped. The school's?
Yes.
Her fingers curled into her sleeve. To do what?
To erase what remains. Or to see what else exists.
Fear slid cold through her chest. So they are panicking.
They are desperate.
Who would still have access? she asked.
Liam's gaze sharpened. People with privileges. People who have not been questioned yet.
She thought of smiling faces and polite hellos. Her throat tightened.
Do you think they will come after you? she asked.
His eyes met hers, steady and dark. If they do, they will learn they chose the wrong target.
The way he said it sent a shiver through her. Not fear.
Trust.
Maya reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. I do not want you getting hurt because of me.
He intertwined his fingers with hers. Then you should stop thinking this is because of you.
Her breath caught. What do you mean?
This is about control. It always was. You threatened their illusion just by existing.
She swallowed. And you?
I do not like people who think they can rewrite reality.
Something in his tone told her there was more behind those words. A past he had never spoken about.
Before she could ask, the librarian cleared her throat sharply.
Phones away, please.
They separated reluctantly.
As they packed their things, Maya felt it again.
That sensation of being watched.
She turned, scanning the rows of shelves.
Nothing.
But when she looked back at Liam, his gaze was locked on the far end of the room, jaw tight.
You feel it too, she whispered.
Yes.
They left the library together, the late afternoon sun stretching shadows across the floor.
Halfway down the corridor, a folded note lay near Maya's feet.
She stopped.
Liam reached it first, unfolding it carefully.
The handwriting was sharp. Familiar.
You think this story is over. It is not.
Maya's pulse roared in her ears.
Liam crumpled the note slowly, deliberately.
It has begun, he said.
And as his eyes lifted to meet hers, Maya understood something chilling.
They were no longer just reacting.
They were being hunted.