The morning air was crisp when Flora stepped out of the car. Her mood was still off the gossip at school, the whispers behind her back, the strange messages that had stopped but left her restless. Everything lately felt tangled and bitter.
As she walked toward the main building, adjusting her bag strap, her eyes caught the back of a familiar figure ahead. The tall frame, the calm way he carried himself… it looked like Shane.
Shane worked at the ice-cream shop. Could he really be here too?
Before she could decide whether to call out, something slipped from his pocket a folded paper fluttered to the ground.
Without hesitation, Flora picked it up. "Excuse me!" she called. "You dropped this!"
The boy stopped and turned.
Her breath caught. It was Shane but not the Shane she remembered. His hair fell forward, hiding his forehead, and a pair of glasses softened the sharpness of his face. The quiet confidence she'd noticed before was still there, but it was buried beneath the calm mask of an ordinary student.
For a second, she just stared. "You…" she blurted before she could stop herself. "Why do you look like that? It's like you're trying to ruin your perfect face on purpose."
Shane's lips twitched almost a smile. "You think so?"
Flora blinked, realizing she'd said it aloud again. "Ah, I didn't mean"
He shook his head lightly. "Don't worry. It's easier this way. Sometimes, being invisible keeps you out of trouble."
He reached out and took the paper from her hand. Their fingers brushed briefly enough to make her heart skip before she quickly pulled back.
"So you weren't lying yesterday," she said, managing a small smile. "You really do go here."
"I told you," he replied softly, "we just don't share the same section. That's why we never crossed paths before."
Flora nodded, a little embarrassed by her surprise. "Right… different sections."
For a moment, they simply stood there, caught in a strange quiet that didn't feel awkward just… uncertain.
Then Shane stepped aside, motioning for her to go first. "You should hurry. You'll be late for class."
She smiled faintly. "Thanks."
As she walked past him, she couldn't help glancing back once. He was still standing there, watching her leave expression unreadable behind those glasses.
---
He waited until she disappeared inside before slipping his hands back into his pockets. The faint smile on his lips never quite reached his eyes.
As the breeze stirred his hair, he glanced down at the folded note in his hand the one he dropped by accident.
His thumb brushed over it once before tucking it safely away.
He turned toward the main building, his reflection flickering across the glass window the boy behind the glasses.
---
That afternoon, the school corridor hummed with students packing for dismissal.
Flora was slipping her sketchbook into her bag when a quiet voice spoke behind her.
"Excuse me, is this the administration office?"
She turned. A tall boy stood there, wearing casual clothes instead of a uniform. His posture was calm, polite, almost too composed for the noise around him.
"It's down the next hall," she said. "End of the corridor, left door."
"Thank you."
Liam smiled lightly, then paused as his gaze caught the silver bracelet on her wrist. "That's a nice charm," he said. "You don't see ones shaped like stars often."
Flora glanced at it, a faint happiness rippling through her. "Yeah, I like things related to stars," she admitted softly. "You know… like destinies written in them."
"Ah." He nodded once, expression unreadable. "Then it must've been important."
He gave a brief nod of thanks and walked away, the envelope in his hand marked Enrollment Documents, elite school of district A.
Flora watched him disappear around the corner. She didn't know why, but his calmness, the way he'd noticed such a small detail, stayed with her long after the halls emptied.
---
By the time Flora got home, dusk had already crept across the sky. The day had been long, and her thoughts still wandered to the boy with the glasses his calm voice, the unreadable expression that stayed with her longer than it should have.
She changed into her pajamas, brushing her hair back when something caught her eye her wrist was bare.
Her bracelet. The one with the tiny silver star.
She frowned, searching the table, the couch, even her bag. Nothing. She checked under the bed, behind the mirror still nothing.
It must've slipped off somewhere, she thought, maybe at school. For a second, she felt oddly hollow but brushed it off. It was just a bracelet.
That night, she sat on her bed scrolling through her phone when the screen suddenly lit up Unknown Number: Incoming Call.
Her breath hitched. It was the same number that had sent those strange, silent messages days ago.
For a moment, she hesitated. Then she answered.
"Hello?"
No reply.
Just a faint sound the kind of quiet that felt alive, like someone was there but refused to speak.
"Who is this?" she whispered.
Still nothing. Only a slow, deliberate silence before the line went dead.
Her chest tightened. She stared at the phone, the glow fading from the screen, and a chill crawled up her spine.
She turned off the light and tried to sleep, but the unease followed her into her dreams.
---
The next morning, she came down for breakfast, still half-lost in thought. Sofi was already at the table, holding something small and shiny between her fingers.
"Looking for this?"
Flora froze. "My bracelet… where did you get it?"
Sofi shrugged casually. "We got a parcel this morning. No name, no return address. I opened it and found this inside. Figured it had to be yours."
Flora stared at it, the familiar silver charm glinting softly in the morning light.
"An anonymous parcel?" she murmured. "That's… strange."
Sofi laughed. "At least it found its way home."
Flora couldn't laugh. The bracelet clicked around her hand and felt unbearably cold.
Last night's call, the same unknown number, the long, empty line, snapped back into her face like a slap.
It wasn't a lucky return. It was proof. Proof someone had reached into her life and put something back where she could touch it.
Her hands trembled so badly the charm scraped at her skin; the thought that someone had been that close made her want to run and hide, and she realized, with a slow, horrified clarity, that she was being watched.