(Anastasha's POV, classroom the morning after)
Naomi:[whispering across her desk, smirking] "You look like a zombie. Didn't sleep, huh?"
Me:[deadpan] "Thanks. That's exactly what every girl wants to hear first thing in the morning."
Naomi: "I'm just saying… your eyes. Puffy. Like, 'I cried all night' puffy."
Me:[snapping a little] "Drop it, Naomi."
Naomi:[blinking] "…Whoa. Okay. Touchy."
I look down at my notebook, but the lines blur. Every time I blink, I see the woods. His eyes. That voice calling me Iris. I press my pen harder against the page, trying to carve myself back into Anastasha.
Classmate (Jonas):[leaning over from the next desk] "Hey, Anna. You good? You look like you saw a ghost."
Me:[forcing a laugh] "I'm fine. Just tired."
Jonas: "You sure? 'Cause you've been staring at the same page for, like, ten minutes."
Naomi:[grinning] "Told you. Zombie."
Me:[rolling eyes] "Can you not?"
Jonas:[chuckling] "She's right, though. You're pale as chalk. Teacher's gonna think you're sick."
Me:[quietly, almost to myself] "Maybe I am."
Naomi:[frowning now, softer] "Hey… seriously. What's going on with you?"
I glance at her. For a moment, I want to tell her everything — about the woods, Gabriel, the name that won't stop echoing in my head. But the words knot in my throat. I look away instead.
Me: "Nothing. Just bad dreams."
Naomi:[snorts] "What, like math tests chasing you down the hallway?"
Me:[flat] "Something like that."
The teacher enters, slapping a stack of books on the desk. The room quiets. I grip my pen, forcing myself to look forward. But Naomi leans in again, whispering low.
Naomi: "Dreams don't make you talk in your sleep."
I freeze. My pen slips, a dark ink blot spreading on the paper.
Me:[shaky whisper] "What did I say?"
Naomi:[shrugs, frowning] "I don't know. Some name. Gabriel, I think? It was creepy. You sounded… sad."
The sound of it makes my stomach flip. I grip the desk, trying to breathe.
Me:[muttering] "It was just a dream."
Naomi:[still staring at me] "…Sure. If you say so."
The teacher's voice starts droning about equations, but the numbers swim across the board. Gabriel's name pounds in my ears louder than chalk on slate.
The cafeteria is loud — trays clattering, voices overlapping, chairs scraping. I push food around on my plate, appetite gone. Naomi drops into the seat across from me, eyes narrowed.
Naomi: "Okay, seriously. What's your deal?"
Me:[sighs] "Not this again."
Naomi: "Yes, this again. You've been weird since last night. And don't give me the 'I'm fine' speech, because I know you."
Me: "Apparently not."
Her eyes widen. I instantly regret how sharp that came out. She leans in, lowering her voice.
Naomi: "…What's that supposed to mean?"
Me:[staring at my tray] "Forget it."
Naomi: "No. You don't get to throw cryptic lines at me and then clam up. Spill."
Me:[tight whisper] "You wouldn't believe me if I did."
Naomi:[challenging] "Try me."
I glance around. The room buzzes with laughter and gossip. None of it feels like it belongs to me anymore. My throat tightens.
Me:[softer] "Naomi… what if I'm not who you think I am?"
Naomi:[blinks] "…Excuse me?"
Me:[realizing what I've said] "I mean—people change, right? Maybe I'm just… different now."
Naomi:[snorts] "That's the lamest dodge I've ever heard. Different how? You dye your hair? Decide to be emo overnight?"
Me:[forcing a laugh] "Something like that."
She studies me for a long second, suspicion and worry flickering together. Then she sighs, leaning back.
Naomi: "Fine. Don't tell me. But when you start chanting in Latin or floating off the ground, I'm calling an exorcist."
Me:[cracking a smile despite myself] "You'd actually enjoy that."
Naomi:[grinning] "Obviously. Imagine the Instagram views."
Her joke is light, but the pit in my stomach doesn't move. I poke at my food again, whispering under my breath before I can stop myself.
Me: "…Gabriel."
Naomi:[frowning] "What was that?"
Me:[quickly] "Nothing. Just… nothing."
The bell rings. Chairs scrape. Students flood out into the hallway. I pack my books slowly, moving like I'm underwater. My pen slips from my fingers and rolls across the floor. A voice stops me before I can chase it.
Mr. Aboagye (Teacher): "Anastasha. Stay a moment."
I freeze. Naomi glances back from the door, but I wave her off quickly. She leaves with a shrug. I turn to face him, clutching my bag strap like a lifeline.
Me: "Yes, sir?"
Mr. Aboagye:[studying me over his glasses] "You've been… distracted today."
Me:[forcing a smile] "Just tired."
Mr. Aboagye: "Tired doesn't usually make someone write their own name wrong."
My stomach drops. I glance at my notebook on his desk. My handwriting sprawls across the page — not 'Anastasha,' but a single, looping word: Iris. I hadn't even noticed I wrote it.
Me:[quickly] "Oh— that was just… a mistake. Doodling."
Mr. Aboagye:[quietly] "Strange kind of doodle. Looked deliberate to me."
I swallow hard. My throat feels like sandpaper.
Me: "It's nothing. Really."
Mr. Aboagye:[tilts his head] "Is it? You know, sometimes when something weighs too heavy, it slips out in ways we don't expect."
His tone is gentle, but the words land like arrows. I grip the strap tighter, trying not to shake.
Me:[softly] "I said it's nothing."
Mr. Aboagye:[studies me a beat longer, then nods slowly] "All right. But if it becomes something… don't carry it alone."
I nod quickly, too quickly, and scoop up my notebook. My hand trembles as I shove it into my bag. He doesn't stop me as I rush out into the emptying hallway.
Me:[under my breath, whispering] "…Don't carry it alone. Too late."
(Gabriel's POV, later that day, somewhere in the city)
The city is loud — car horns, vendors shouting, footsteps echoing off concrete. I stand on a rooftop, the skyline washed in fading gold. Kelvin's voice cuts into the air behind me.
Kelvin: "You've been up here for hours."
Gabriel:[without turning] "Observation doesn't require movement."
Kelvin:[sighs] "You mean brooding. You've been brooding."
Gabriel:[flatly] "Call it what you want."
He steps closer, the crunch of gravel under his shoes. I finally glance at him. His expression is patient, but I can see the question in his eyes.
Kelvin: "You felt it, didn't you? Last night."
Gabriel:[pauses] "…Perhaps."
Kelvin:[frowning] "That's not an answer."
Gabriel:[measured] "The weave is shifting. That much is certain."
Kelvin: "And the girl?"
Gabriel:[eyes narrowing slightly] "…She remembered."
Kelvin exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. His voice drops lower.
Kelvin: "Anastasha."
Gabriel:[clipped] "Iris."
The name hangs heavy between us. Kelvin shakes his head, his tone sharper now.
Kelvin: "She's not Iris anymore. Don't do that to her."
Gabriel:[turning away again, gaze fixed on the skyline] "Names don't change what's written beneath the skin."
Kelvin: "Maybe not. But she deserves the chance to choose who she wants to be now. Not… who she was."
I don't answer immediately. My hands rest on the railing, steady. The silence stretches until Kelvin breaks it again.
Kelvin: "You're going to see her, aren't you?"
Gabriel:[flatly] "I already have."
Kelvin stiffens. His voice tightens with alarm.
Kelvin: "You didn't—Gabriel, what did you say to her?"
Gabriel:[calm, deliberate] "Enough."
Kelvin:[steps closer, voice heated] "Enough to confuse her? To make her question everything? She's sixteen. She's not ready for—"
Gabriel:[cutting him off, cold] "Readiness is a luxury. Time doesn't wait for readiness."
Kelvin exhales sharply, frustration etched across his face. But his voice softens after a beat.
Kelvin: "You care. Even if you won't admit it."
I don't answer. The skyline glitters with city lights, each one a reminder of how many lives burn out before mine will. I whisper more to myself than to him.
Gabriel: "Caring doesn't change the ending."
Kelvin studies me in silence. I can feel it, but I don't turn. The wind cuts colder across the rooftop, carrying with it the faint echo of a name I can't bury.