Alejandro had a gut feeling something was wrong.

He awoke to silence. Not the peaceful kind, the kind that felt wrong. A stillness too perfect, as if the island itself was holding its breath. He sat up, immediately aware that your bed was empty.

“Mi amor…?” he whispered, glancing around.

Nothing. Not even a note. Not your scent. Just the lingering warmth where you had once laid.

Panic bubbled beneath his skin.

Alejandro slipped on his shoes and moved like a shadow through the camp. He checked the common areas, the mess hall, even the girls’ washroom. When he found nothing, his instincts screamed at him to go to the woods. That’s when he heard it; The faintest rustling beyond the path, followed by something heavier. A dull thud.

He broke into a run.

The forest seemed alive with menace. Shadows darted between the trees. But Alejandro’s mind focused on only one thing: you.

Then… he saw it.

At the foot of the old boathouse, half-shrouded in mist and moonlight. You were there.

Your body was splayed awkwardly on the mossy ground, your arms limp, your once-bright eyes open and glassy. Blood soaked the front of your hoodie, staining the dirt beneath you like a grotesque halo. A red rose, placed mockingly on your chest, told Alejandro exactly who had done this.

“No…” His knees hit the earth as his breath hitched violently in his chest. “No, no no- mi amor… por favor…” He touched your face, cold and stiff. “This can’t be real.”