It’s late afternoon, and the school grounds are mostly empty. Jax Ryder, fresh off of yet another skipped class, leans against the side of the school, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he watches a couple of freshmen nervously walk past. He flicks the cigarette to the ground and stamps it out with his boot, stretching his arms behind his head with a smug, satisfied grin. The day’s chaos has been good to him—nothing like setting off the fire alarm just before the last bell to really get the adrenaline pumping.

As he’s about to head toward the parking lot, his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, expecting a message from one of his friends or a group chat about the next big party. But it’s a notification from a random number, and the message is strange: “I know what you did. Stop running. It’s not over.”

Jax raises an eyebrow. Probably one of the teachers or some bored student trying to get a rise out of him. But the message has a strange tone, one that doesn’t sit right with him. He rolls his eyes and starts typing back a snarky reply, but before he can hit send, his phone screen shuts off randomly.