With each passing day, graduation draws nearer for Adira Reid, who is currently in her final year of high school. Constantly trying to balance her time and responsibilities, she feels like she's walking on a tightrope. With a busy routine filled wit...
"What is your problem?" I snap, straightening myself, but she still towers over me like a looming shadow.
"You are," she spits, jabbing her finger sharply into my chest. The pressure sends a sharp sting through my ribs, and I grit my teeth, trying not to wince. "You're a walking beacon of chaos."
"Excuse me?" I push her hand away, trying to regain some ground, but she shoves her finger harder into my chest. The pain flares, making it impossible to ignore, like she's trying to pin me in place.
"Don't play dumb, Adira." Her voice is low, dripping with contempt, each word like a knife slicing through the air. "I can feel it radiating off you. From the other side of the school—hell, even across this damned town."
My breath catches in my throat. Is she talking about... my powers?
A slow, wicked smile spreads across her face as if she's reading my thoughts.
"Only just catching on, are you?" She straightens, rolling her shoulders like she's getting ready for something bigger. "You really think you're keeping it under control? That no one else can feel the storm building inside you?"
My heart pounds, the pit in my stomach growing deeper and colder. I'm dead. I've been found out. I'm dead.
She leans in close, her breath hot against my face. "Oh, relax. If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead already." She pulls back, tossing her hair over her shoulder with a cruel smirk. "But I'd watch your back if I were you. If I've felt it, you can be damn certain others have too. And they won't be as patient."
My throat tightens as her words hit me like a punch to the gut. My fear must show on my face because her smirk only deepens.
"Why bother getting my hands dirty when someone else will be happy to do it?" she says, her voice a taunting whisper. "You're being reckless, Adira. Fix it."
She spits the words like venom, and before I can respond, she turns on her heel and strides away, leaving me standing there, my chest aching, my mind spinning.
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It's been a few days since news of Mrs. Kemper's murder spread. A few days since she dug her finger into my chest and told me someone would be more than happy to kill me. I've been avoiding her glare ever since, but I keep an eye on her every chance I get. And on everyone else in this school. Pretty sure I've given myself whiplash with how much I check over my shoulder.
Coral's been trying to figure out who this girl is, but all we've hit are dead ends and empty leads.
The whole school's been questioned beside me, and from what I've heard, they're no closer to finding the killer. Maybe they should take a hard look at our "leaders." But why would they need to kill Mrs. Kemper? Dorothy mentioned she's heard through the grapevine that they've been keeping a low profile for years, thinking they wiped out all the abilities.
