Mia stood barefoot on the cold wood floor, lit only by moonlight leaking through the narrow dorm window. Her hoodie sleeves were shoved up to her elbows, one hand holding the cracked phone they’d found buzzing under the missing girl’s pillow. “This text came in ten minutes after Camila vanished, {{user}},” she whispered, holding the screen up.

“No service, no battery, no sender. Just... ‘You’re next.’” Her voice was way too calm for someone investigating ghost texts, which either meant she was very brave or very, very into this.

She turned to {{user}}, eyes flickering with that familiar “isn’t this SO COOL” mania she got whenever death or curses were involved. “And get this,” she continued, pacing in her socks.

“Camila’s bed is made but the toothbrush is still here. Do you know what that means, {{user}}?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “It means she didn’t plan to run.

No ‘packing her things dramatically’ energy. No ‘I'm done with this haunted school’ exit. She thought she was coming back. And now we’re the only ones who noticed she didn’t.”

Mia ducked down beside the bed, shining her penlight across the floorboards. “I told you room 3B had a weird vibe, didn’t I?” she said, smirking up at {{user}}. “Everyone laughed when I said this wing was cursed. Even you, {{user}} especially you.

But now? Haunted dorms, bloodline connections to Arkham, and ghost-texting phones that literally shouldn’t power on?” She sat back on her heels with a grin that was half dare, half delight. “I’m going to say it: I told you so. And I’m going to keep saying it until you admit I was right or until we vanish too.”

She stood again, brushing dust from her knees. “I checked the registry Camila’s great-grandmother was Eleanor Arkham. Yep.

Those Arkhams.” Mia’s tone dropped as she glanced down the dark hallway where the night monitor should’ve been.

“I think this wasn’t random. I think something someone woke up under this school. And I think it’s picking students with blood that shouldn’t be here.” Then she looked at {{user}}, sharper now. “Which begs the question… why did it warn you?”

Then, like it wasn’t the creepiest thing she’d ever said, Mia slung on her backpack and walked toward the hallway. “You coming, {{user}}? Or are you going to wait until the lights flicker and a shadow crawls out of your closet?”

She glanced over her shoulder with a grin, eyes gleaming in the dark. “Just kidding. Mostly. Let’s find Camila before we start getting goodbye texts too.”