The morning sun hadn't yet burned through the mist that clung to Hawthorne's trees when Elora stepped into the kitchen. Mira was already seated at the table, sipping black tea, her back straight, hands folded neatly around the chipped porcelain cup like a priestess awaiting confession.
Elora hesitated in the doorway. "Morning," she said softly.
Mira nodded but didn't look up. "You're late."
Elora arched an eyebrow. "It's seven thirty."
"And the mist has been watching you since dawn. Time moves differently when it listens."
Elora blinked. "Okay... cryptic again. Cool."
Mira finally looked at her. "You're going to meet the school headmaster today. The forms are already filled. You'll be attending Hawthorne High."
Elora's stomach dropped. "Seriously? That fast?"
"Life doesn't wait for grief to loosen its grip."
She wanted to argue, to protest that her parents hadn't even been gone a month. But Mira's tone had a finality to it, the kind that didn't invite sympathy—only obedience.
Before Elora could respond, a chaotic knock shattered the stillness. Three sharp pounds followed by a rapid series of taps.
"Oh no," Mira muttered, setting down her tea. "I know that rhythm."
The front door creaked open before either of them could move. Jessi Smith burst into the hallway like a hurricane wrapped in denim and noise.
"You live in a haunted dollhouse," Jessi said by way of greeting, poking her head around the corner. Her curls were tied up with a pencil, and her backpack was covered in stitched patches that looked hand-sewn.
Mira stared. Jessi stared back.
Elora cleared her throat. "Mira, this is Jessi. Jessi, Mira—my grandmother."
Mira's face remained unreadable. "The sunshine one, I presume."
"Yup! That's me," Jessi said cheerfully, stepping further inside like she owned the place. "Sunshine with a touch of chaos. Elora didn't tell me her house was one spell away from full Gothic drama. I love it."
Mira tilted her head. "You shouldn't be here."
"I brought her breakfast," Jessi lied, holding up a bag that definitely smelled like fries. "And moral support. I heard about her school stuff. Big day. Gotta look sharp."
Elora glanced at Mira, bracing for rejection, but the older woman simply sighed and stood.
"Make it quick. You have fifteen minutes before we leave," she said, brushing past them both.
As Mira disappeared down the hallway, Jessi leaned closer. "She's... intense."
"You think?"
"Is she always like that? All mysterious warnings and high cheekbones?"
"Pretty much. You get used to it."
Jessi flopped into a chair at the table and pulled out two wrapped muffins from her bag. "Fuel for your fate. Also known as banana chocolate chip."
Elora sat across from her and accepted the muffin. "Thanks."
Jessi studied her. "Nervous?"
"Yes."
"Don't be. Hawthorne High is just like every other school. Full of weirdos, gossip, and minor social hierarchies fueled by caffeine and hormones. You'll fit in fine."
"I don't want to fit in," Elora muttered. "I want to survive."
Jessi grinned. "Well, you've got me now. I'm the best survival guide in town."
Fifteen minutes later, Elora stood by the front door, dressed in a simple black sweater and jeans. Mira examined her with clinical precision.
"You'll need a jacket. It gets colder around the school."
"It's not even ten degrees colder," Jessi chimed in. "Unless you count the glares from the Knight kids. They drop the temp fast."
Mira didn't react. She handed Elora a gray wool coat.
"You'll find the school unpleasant," she said softly. "Not because of the people, but because of what lies beneath it."
Jessi made a face. "Is everything in this town haunted, cursed, or whispering in the dark?"
"Yes," Mira said simply.
Elora swallowed. "You're not joking, are you?"
"No. Be careful who you speak to. And more importantly, who listens."
Jessi nudged Elora's arm. "Okay, I take back what I said earlier. Your grandma is definitely a witch."
Mira raised a brow. "Would it bother you if I were?"
"Not even a little. I've been dying to meet one."
Mira gave the faintest of smiles, then stepped back. "Go. You'll be late."
The walk to school was a twenty-minute stretch along a winding road that passed through the oldest part of Hawthorne. Trees arched overhead like the ribs of a massive beast. As they walked, Jessi filled the silence.
"So, important stuff. Don't talk to Principal Acker before 9 a.m.—he's grumpy until his fourth cup of coffee. Avoid the third floor science lab unless you like the smell of burnt hair. Oh, and don't eat the meatloaf on Wednesdays. Trust me."
"Noted," Elora said, clutching the strap of her bag.
"Also," Jessi added, slowing her steps, "people are going to talk. About you. About Mira. About where you're living. Don't let it get to you."
"They already are."
"Yeah, but I've got your back."
Elora glanced sideways. Jessi looked resolute. Fierce in the way only someone small and loud could be.
"Thanks," Elora said quietly.
As they rounded the final bend, Hawthorne High came into view. A looming brick building with ivy crawling up the walls and tall, arched windows. The bell tower above the main hall let out a low, mournful chime.
"Welcome to the castle," Jessi said with mock grandeur. "May your social life not crash and burn."
Inside the main office, the secretary—a thin woman with oversized glasses—handed Elora a map, a class schedule, and a green binder labeled: "NEW STUDENT MATERIALS."
"You're with Mr. Rowan first period. Room 1B. History."
"I'll show her," Jessi said quickly.
"Miss Smith, you're already late for biology."
"And yet here I am, making a difference. I'll catch up."
The secretary sighed and waved them off.
As they stepped into the hallway, the weight of the building hit Elora all at once.
The walls were lined with dusty plaques. The lights overhead flickered faintly. The smell of chalk and damp paper filled the air.
"Is it just me," she whispered, "or is the school... humming?"
Jessi stopped. Her grin faded slightly.
"You feel that too?"
"Feel what? " Jessi asked
"Like something is rumbling"
"Hummm" Jessi said. " Try not to think about it. Might be your nervousness girl"
Elora turned to look down the long corridor. Shadows seemed to cling to the edges of the lockers.
"Maybe"
"I have a bad feeling about this place."
"Good," Jessi said. "That means your instincts are working. Now let's find your class before it eats us."
As Jessi waved goodbye and slipped toward the biology lab, Elora stood alone outside Room 1B, hand trembling slightly as she reached for the handle.
Mira's words echoed in her mind: Be careful who you speak to. And who listens.
And somehow, beneath her boots, she thought she felt it—that strange pulse again. Like a root twitching far below the ground.
Hawthorne was watching.
And it remembered her.
She remembers one more thing
"Be careful of anyone with the Knight surname"