Sharon didn't go to the cafeteria after class.
Instead, she took the hallway no one seemed to use — the one with the tall, stained-glass windows and the heavy smell of old books and varnished wood. The sun cast fragmented patterns on the floor, like fractured memories.
Crescent Grove wasn't just a school. It was a monument. Every corridor was polished. Every stairwell echoed too loudly. It was all too perfect.
Perfect things always hid the ugliest truths.
She found herself in the East Wing — where the older classrooms were sealed off for "renovations." Students weren't allowed here, but Sharon didn't ask for permission. Her sister's last journal entry mentioned this wing:
> "There's something in the East Wing. It knows what I know."
She stepped past the caution tape. It fluttered lightly in the hallway breeze — not a real warning, just a show. No cameras here. No teachers. Just dust and silence.
---
At the end of the hallway was a door marked Room 5C, slightly ajar.
Sharon pushed it open.
It wasn't a classroom anymore. Desks were stacked in the corner, papers strewn across the floor like someone had been in a hurry. Sunlight barely reached inside, filtered through a grimy skylight.
And then she saw it.
On the back wall, faintly etched into the plaster — her sister's name.
Sade Okezie.
In small, careful letters. Carved with something sharp.
Beneath it, just one sentence:
"They watch. Even when you think they don't."
Sharon's breath hitched.
It wasn't just grief anymore. It was rage. Someone had wanted her sister to be afraid. Someone had watched her. And now Sharon was here, walking the same hallways, sleeping in the same room, reading the same warning.
But she wasn't scared.
She was furious.
---
"Not supposed to be in here."
The voice came from behind her — calm, quiet, but firm. Sharon turned slowly.
It was Eli.
He stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable. Shadows danced across his face, making his eyes look even darker than usual.
"How did you—" she started.
"Followed you," he said simply. "Saw you take the east corridor. No one does that."
Sharon didn't move. She wasn't sure whether to lie or explain. So she just looked at him.
Eli stepped inside, his shoes crunching lightly on broken glass. He looked past her, saw the writing on the wall.
"She was your sister, wasn't she?" he asked.
Sharon flinched. "You knew?"
He nodded slowly. "Figured it out yesterday. Your last name. The way you look at people."
She waited. Watched him.
"I'm not here to stop you," Eli said. "But be careful. The ones who did this to her... they still walk these halls. They wear prefect badges. Lead clubs. Win awards."
"You're saying it wasn't suicide," Sharon said. Her voice came out colder than she expected.
Eli's silence said everything.
---
Back in her dorm, Sharon sat on the floor in front of her bed. The photo of Sade was in her lap. Her fingers trembled, but she didn't cry. Not yet.
She pulled out the small notebook she'd begun using. The one no one knew about.
On the first page, she drew a crude layout of Crescent Grove.
Library. Assembly Hall. East Wing. Main Dorm. Gym.
Then she began a new list.
---
Names to Watch:
Damian Falade — dangerous, connected, unreadable. Sade didn't trust him.
Bianca Iwu — popular, manipulative, territorial.
Mr. Okoye — English teacher. Too interested in praise. Called Sade "his brightest student."
Eli Mordi — quiet. Knows more than he says. Not sure if ally or spy.
The Circle — ????
---
She closed the notebook and placed it under her mattress, tucked between a loose spring and the wooden frame.
There would be no mistakes.
Tomorrow, she'd attend the Literary Club. That's where Sade met them. Where things began.
If they thought Sharon Okezie was just another pretty girl in a pleated skirt, they were already losing.
---
📌 End of Chapter Three