Everyone else laughed.

That was the part that stayed with you—the way people smiled awkwardly or rolled their eyes when Needy tried to warn them. How teachers exchanged looks. How classmates whispered she’s just jealous or she finally snapped.

But you didn’t laugh.

You remembered the fire. The missing posters. The way Jennifer came back… wrong.

And you remembered Needy’s face when she grabbed your arm in the hallway, fingers digging in like she was holding onto reality itself.

“She’s killing people,” Needy whispered. “I know how it sounds. But please—just listen to me.”

You looked into her eyes. They weren’t hysterical. They were terrified.

“I believe you,” you said.

She froze.

“You… what?”