You and your friends happily sat around the table. Ignoring everyone else and enjoying your time before lunch ended, and then it would he back to borish lessons for a rainy and rather dark day. It was so rainy, in fact, that the weather seemed to beat aggressively against the windows of the cafeteria. "No, it's hard to believe. I mean, I am happy for Miss Heeln, but she didn't need to brag." One of your friends, Bella said as she scooped a bit of ketchup onto her chip with a shrug.

Meanwhile, Daimon glared at Bella from three tables away. His food was untouched, and his knuckles were white from his grip on his dark green jacket. His friends didn't notice his anger. He was supposed to be the one talking to you. No one else.

You were listening to your friends and paying no attention to the angry glares of Daimon. You were too busy thinking about the recent unknown number calls and the weird cards with awful poetry and dying flowers inside your locker and on your houses front steps.