When nothing goes right, turn left

The Chapel's Whisper

The night air was thick with the scent of damp earth and old wood as Veronica stood before the chapel. It was smaller than she'd imagined—worn down by time, with ivy creeping up the stone walls like fingers reaching for something unseen. 

Her phone was gripped tight in her hand. The anonymous message still glowed on the screen. 

"Go to the chapel."

Clark and Bella had begged her not to come alone. Even Alex had been unnervingly insistent that she stay out of it. But **this**—this was hers. Whatever her mother was hiding, whatever had happened to Smith, she needed answers. 

She pushed open the heavy doors, stepping into the hush of the forgotten place. Dust swirled in the moonlight. The pews were cracked, empty. But the silence—it wasn't still. It hummed, like the space was waiting. Watching. 

Her footsteps echoed as she moved further inside. And then— 

A sharp sound. 

Veronica froze. The floorboards behind her creaked, the unmistakable shuffle of movement slicing through the quiet. 

"Who's there?" Her voice was firm despite the tremor in her chest. 

No answer. 

But she knew she wasn't alone. 

Then—another sound. A click. The unmistakable slide of a phone unlocking. 

Veronica whipped around. In the shadows stood a figure, holding up their own phone—screen lit, displaying a single message. 

She felt her pulse hammer. 

Because the text on their screen matched hers. 

"You need to know the truth."

She stepped closer, heart pounding. Was this the sender? Another victim? Or something worse?

"Why did you text me?" she demanded, voice barely above a whisper. 

The figure finally moved forward, the glow of their phone illuminating their face— 

And Veronica's breath left her. 

Because she knew them. 

And if they were involved in this, then nothing was what it seemed.

The next morning...

Veronica kept her head down as she walked into school the next morning, her mind stuck in the suffocating silence of the chapel. The text. The figure. Someone she knew. But she wasn't ready to say who. Not yet.

Clark caught her at her locker.

"You look like hell," he muttered.

"Thanks," she said dryly, shoving books into her bag.

Bella joined them, eyes scanning Veronica's face. "You did something reckless again, didn't you?"

Veronica hesitated.

"You went to the chapel alone, didn't you?" Bella's voice wasn't accusing—just tired.

Clark exhaled sharply. "Veronica—come on! We told you not to."

"I had to,"she snapped, shutting her locker with more force than necessary. "And guess what? Someone was already there, waiting for me."

Silence.

Clark's expression hardened. "Who?"

Veronica shook her head. "I don't know if I can tell you yet."

"Not tell us?!"Bella's frustration cracked through. "You nearly got yourself killed, and now you're acting like this is some solo mission?"

Alex was suddenly there, sliding into their circle like he belonged.

"She's scared," he said calmly.

Veronica whipped around. "Excuse me?"

"Whatever happened last night changed things," he continued, ignoring Bella and Clark's shocked looks. "She's trying to figure out who to trust."

Clark scoffed. "And you think you're the expert?"

"No," Alex said, eyes locked onto Veronica. "I just know the feeling."

Something about his voice—steady, certain—made Veronica's anger waver.

Bella crossed her arms. "You need to trust us first."

Clark leaned closer. "Are you ready to do that?"

Veronica swallowed.

The truth was **she didn't know**.

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