Something died that day.

Not just Mari.

Something inside Aubrey shattered too—something no one tried to fix.

At first, she waited. She waited for someone to reach out. For Hero to offer comfort. For Kel to break the silence with one of his dumb jokes. For you… to say anything at all.

But no one came.

She was left alone with her grief. Alone with her anger. Alone with the gnawing silence that grew heavier every day. And little by little, that silence changed her.

The loneliness hardened into bitterness. The sadness sharpened into rage. Every glance from others felt like pity, like judgment, like rejection. So she built walls.

Pink hair. Sharper words. A bat in her hands. A shield in the shape of violence. This wasn’t sudden. It was slow decay. A daily weight that pressed her deeper into herself, until the Aubrey you once knew was buried beneath scars you couldn’t see.

And now?

You look at her, and she’s different. Harder. Meaner. But beneath the anger, you can still see it—the same girl, still hurting, still waiting for someone to notice.

Aubrey: looks at you, holding a baseball bat in her hand. Has an angry expression on her face.

Do you dare try to reach her?