A letter
The clubroom was unusually quiet and calm.
A stark contrast to the usual tension and urgency that had filled and lingered around it for the past few days. The case—Jhoanna, Celeste, the numbers, all of it—had been temporarily pushed to the back of their minds. For now, they were just students, each buried in their own academic struggles.
Colet sat in the corner, hunched over, her eyes glued to the bright screen of her laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard with precision. Lines of code scrolled rapidly as she worked through her assignment, a furrow deepening in her brow whenever an error popped up.
"Why is this not working? Ugh, I swear, if one more syntax error—" She muttered to herself, tapping her fingers against the table in frustration.
"Maybe the program's just allergic to you," Maloi quipped without looking up from her own work, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
Colet shot her a glare. "Oh, yeah? And how’s your article going, Ms. Journalist? Still struggling with your opening paragraph?"
Maloi sighed, dramatically tossing her pen onto the table. "You have no idea. I need to write about media ethics, but every draft I start either sounds too robotic or too much like I’m ranting about clickbait journalism. I don’t know how my professor expects us to be objective when the industry is a mess."
"Sounds like you need coffee," Gwen murmured from her seat, not even glancing up from her tablet. A stylus danced across the screen as she meticulously shaded her latest virtual plate for her architecture class. Her focus was unbreakable, her brows knitted in concentration as she zoomed in to adjust the smallest details. "Or maybe a divine intervention."
"If only," Maloi groaned, rubbing her temples before picking up her pen again.
Meanwhile, across the room, Stacey sat with a notebook sprawled open, scribbling complex equations and chemical formulas with practiced ease. Every few moments, she would pause, glance at a reference book beside her, then return to her calculations. The table around her was cluttered with sticky notes filled with hastily written numbers, and an unfinished lab report sat beside her.
She chewed on the end of her pen before glancing up. "You know, I was going to conduct an experiment later, but I need another set of hands. Any volunteers?"
"Depends," Sheena drawled lazily, reclining on the couch with her arms crossed. "Will there be explosions?"
"No explosions," Stacey deadpanned. "Not unless I mess up."
"Then I’m out."
Mikha, seated beside Sheena, shot her a look. "You shouldn’t joke about that. What if she actually does mess up?"
"Then we get to reenact an action movie scene," Sheena grinned, before nudging Mikha’s script toward her. "Come on, focus. Say the line again, but this time, put more emotion into it. You sound like you’re reading off a textbook."
Mikha groaned, pressing her forehead against the table. "Sheeenaaaa, I don’t know how to sound ‘more desperate’ without actually feeling desperate."
"Then imagine you just found out your best friend betrayed you, and you’re confronting them. Feel the weight of that. Channel the pain. The anger." Sheena’s voice softened, coaxing. "You’re not just saying the words, Mikha. You have to live them."
Mikha took a deep breath, straightened up, and clutched the script. She hesitated for a moment before reciting the line again, her voice wavering, layered with an emotion that hadn’t been there before.
Sheena smiled. "Better. Now imagine you just found out your cat secretly hated you this whole time. That’s the level of devastation I need.”
Mikha blinked. “That’s… oddly specific.”
“Trust the process.”
“I think Sheena’s just projecting,” Maloi murmured, smirking.
“Hey, shut up,” Sheena shot back, before turning her attention back to Mikha. “Okay, one more time, and really feel it.”
As the room buzzed with activity—frustrated sighs, the clacking of keyboards, muttered complaints about schoolwork—it felt, for just a moment, like everything was normal. The mystery, the dangers, the whispers of something bigger lurking in the shadows—those things could wait. For now, they were just students drowning in their responsibilities, struggling through the chaos of academia together.
Aiah sat at the farthest corner of the clubroom, away from the chaos of her friends, her books sprawled open before her. The textbook on forensic psychology should have been her focus, but the words blurred together into nothing but black smudges against white paper, their meaning slipping away right before she could grasp them. Her pen moved absentmindedly over her notebook, the tip gliding across the page in idle strokes as her mind wandered elsewhere—back to the dim-lit shelves of the library, back to the whisper of a voice too close to her ear.
Jhoanna.
The name echoed in her thoughts like a haunting refrain, refusing to be buried beneath case studies and crime theories. Aiah exhaled sharply, shaking her head as if to physically dispel the memory, but it clung to her like static electricity. Her mind, rebellious as ever, recalled every detail: the teasing lilt in Jhoanna’s voice, the almost-smirk curling her lips, the way the faint glow of her ghostly presence highlighted the sharp angles of her face.
But more than anything, her eyes.
Deep, dark, unreadable—like twin abysses that pulled her in without warning. Aiah hadn’t realized just how much she had been thinking about them until she found herself unconsciously sketching them on the margins of her notes. The moment she noticed, her breath caught in her throat.
What the—
She yanked her pen away as if it had burned her, her gaze locking onto the paper with wide-eyed horror. The strokes were rough but unmistakable, the delicate arch of a brow, the way her lashes fanned out and the intensity of the eyes captured with alarming accuracy, like they were peering into her from the pages themselves. Her fingers twitched. Her heart pounded.
Oh, hell no.
Aiah slammed her notebook shut and pressed her palms against her face, her skin burning. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered to herself under her breath. “She’s a ghost. A ghost.”
But the problem was, no matter how many times she repeated it, the words felt hollow.
Because ghosts weren’t supposed to make your heart race. Ghosts weren’t supposed to make your skin prickle when they leaned in too close. Ghosts weren’t supposed to be—
Beautiful.
Aiah groaned, dragging her hands down her face as she sat back in frustration. What was wrong with her? This was absurd. Completely, utterly absurd. She needed to stop thinking about it. She needed to focus. She needed to—
“You okay there?”
Aiah nearly jumped out of her seat as Maloi’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. She turned her head sharply to see her friend peering at her with a raised brow. “You’ve been zoning out for the past fifteen minutes,” Maloi continued, tapping her pen against the table. “Something on your mind?”
“Nothing.” Aiah answered too quickly, reaching for the closest book and flipping it open in a desperate attempt to look busy. “Just… studying.”
Maloi’s gaze flickered to the closed notebook under Aiah’s arm, her lips twitching with amusement. “Yeah? Looked more like you were about to combust over there.”
“I said it’s nothing.”
“Mhm.” Maloi didn’t sound convinced in the slightest, but she let it go, turning back to her own work with a knowing smirk.
Aiah sighed, letting her forehead drop onto the open textbook in defeat. Maybe if she stayed like this long enough, she could sink through the floor and disappear. She was a person of logic, facts, and reason. And ghosts—no matter how infuriatingly beautiful they were—should not be occupying her thoughts.
Then—
A sudden knock on the door sent a jolt through the entire room.
Everyone froze.
For a moment, no one moved. The air was thick with silence, everyone frozen mid-action. Gwen’s pencil hovered above her tablet, Maloi’s fingers remained tightly wrapped her pen, Colet’s screen reflected lines of code she wasn’t typing, Stacey’s calculator let out a soft beep as it auto-cleared, and Sheena and Mikha’s practice lines hung unfinished in the air.
Aiah, sitting in the corner, felt the hair at the back of her neck stand. It wasn’t that visitors were unheard of, but people usually sent a message or email first if they needed something from their group. No one just showed up unannounced.
“Uh… did anyone invite someone?” Sheena asked, eyes darting toward the door.
“Nope.” Gwen shook her head while hesitantly putting her stylus down.
“Maybe it’s a professor?” Mikha suggested, though even she didn’t sound convinced.
“No way, no professor comes here,” Colet reasoned. “They barely acknowledge our existence.”
“What if it's a ghost?” Sheena whispered, eyes darting toward Aiah, who visibly stiffened.
Mikha groaned. “Don’t start, Sheena.”
“Or maybe,” Maloi said dramatically, lowering her voice to a whisper, “it’s them.”
That did it. A collective shudder went through the room. After everything they’d been digging into lately, the idea of an unexpected visitor wasn’t exactly comforting.
“So, uh… who’s opening the door?” Colet asked, glancing around.
Silence.
Then, as if on cue, everyone turned to look at each other.
“Not me,” Stacey said immediately, raising both hands. “I value my life, thanks.”
“Oh, and you think I don’t?” Maloi shot back.
“You’re a journalist! You deal with people all the time!” Sheena argued.
“Yeah, and I know when to run from a bad situation, which is what I’m doing right now.” Maloi crossed her arms and sat back stubbornly.
“Mikha, you open it,” Gwen suggested.
“Why me?!” Mikha yelped.
“You’re a theatre student, right? Act like you’re not scared.”
“That’s not how it works!”
“You guys are being ridiculous,” Gwen muttered. “It’s probably just someone lost or a student looking for help.”
“Or someone coming to tell us to stop snooping before we disappear,” Colet said, only half-joking.
Gwen let out a small whimper. “Can we not manifest that, please?”
“Fine. Colet, go open it,” Stacey said, nudging her.
“Why do I have to do it?” Colet demanded.
“You’re the logical one! If something sketchy happens, you’ll analyze it first before reacting.”
“Oh, right, let me logically analyze getting kidnapped. Brilliant.”
The knocking came again, this time a little firmer. Everyone jolted, staring at the door like it might burst open at any second.
Then they all turned to Aiah, who had been silent throughout their entire argument. She was staring at them with the most unimpressed expression imaginable.
Aiah let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose before finally standing up. “You’re all hopeless.”
A wave of relieved sighs filled the room, though Sheena whispered a soft, “Rest in peace,” making Gwen elbow her in the ribs.
“Be careful,” Maloi whispered dramatically.
“Oh my god, shut up.” Aiah rolled her eyes and walked to the door.
She inhaled sharply before turning the knob. As the door creaked open, she was met with the sight of a student standing just outside their clubroom.
He was a boy around their age, maybe a little younger, with an air of quiet unease about him.
Aiah's gaze flickered over him, instinctively taking in details like a case study. His dark hair was an unruly mess, the kind that looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in days, yet somehow suited him. A few strands fell over his forehead, nearly covering his sharp, tired-looking eyes—eyes that seemed to dart around as if he was second-guessing his decision to be here. He had a faint bruise just beneath his left cheekbone, fading but still visible under the fluorescent hallway light.
He wore a faded black hoodie, its fabric worn thin at the cuffs, layered over a plain white shirt that peeked from underneath. His jeans were distressed—not in the trendy way, but in the kind that suggested they’d been through more than just casual wear and tear. A chain dangled from one of his belt loops, clinking softly as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. His sneakers, once white, were now scuffed and stained, the laces loosely tied as if he couldn’t be bothered to care.
Despite the rebellious exterior, his posture told a different story. His shoulders were slightly hunched, his fingers anxiously tugging at the hem of his hoodie’s sleeve. He was standing there, not with the defiant confidence that his appearance might suggest, but rather with hesitation—like he was second-guessing every second that passed.
Aiah let the silence stretch, her brain piecing together different theories about who he was and why he was here. A troublemaker? A student running from something? Someone caught up in something bigger than he could handle?
She finally exhaled and crossed her arms. “Who are you?” she asked, her voice even, but laced with the usual sharpness of her skepticism. “And what are you doing here?”
The boy hesitated. His eyes flicked past Aiah and toward the half-open door of the clubroom, as if debating whether he should really be doing this. His fingers curled and uncurled around his sleeve before he took a small, careful breath.
“Is this…” He hesitated, then lowered his voice. “Is this The Veil’s?”
Aiah narrowed her eyes slightly, a small jolt running through her. It wasn’t often that someone asked for them so directly.
“Yes.”
The boy’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his voice even quieter when he spoke again. “I… I need help.”
Aiah raised a brow at the guy’s vague declaration but didn’t press further. Instead, she stepped to the side, tilting her head toward the open doorway. “Come in.” Her voice was neutral, but she kept her gaze steady, silently observing as the student hesitated for a beat before shuffling inside.
Behind her, Maloi’s voice rang out the moment she stepped back into the room. “Who was it?” she asked, her tone laced with curiosity but also wariness.
Aiah didn’t answer right away. Instead, she simply pointed a thumb over her shoulder at the guy trailing behind her. That was all it took for the entire room to fall into silence.
All six of them—Colet, Maloi, Gwen, Stacey, Sheena, and Mikha—paused in whatever they were doing, their eyes collectively zoning in on the newcomer. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence for someone to show up at their clubroom unannounced.
The guy shifted awkwardly under their stares.
Aiah took the lead, walking over to an empty chair near the center of the room. She pulled it forward and placed it in front of where the rest of them were seated. “Sit,” she said, her voice firm but not unkind.
The guy glanced at the chair, then at Aiah, then at the others who were still watching him like he was a puzzle waiting to be solved. With a visible swallow, he sat down.
At the same time, Aiah lowered herself into her own seat, mirroring him.
Another beat of silence stretched between them all. The stranger—this unknown guy who had shown up at their door instead of following the usual process—sat rigidly in the chair Aiah had pulled for him, his fingers gripping the sleeve of his hoodie as if it was the only thing keeping him steady.
Maloi, ever the one to break an awkward silence, faked a cough before tilting her head, eyes scrutinizing him. "So” she started, drawing out the word. “What brings you here?" Her tone was casual, but her sharp gaze said otherwise.
The guy hesitated, lowering his gaze momentarily, as if trying to gather his thoughts, before looking back up. "I… need your help."
Immediately, a wave of raised eyebrows swept through the group. The response itself wasn’t odd—after all, The Veil was built on helping students with their issues, digging into things that others wouldn't.
Gwen crossed her arms, exchanging glances with Colet, who didn’t even try to hide her skepticism. "You do know we have an email for that, right?" Colet said, leaning forward slightly. "That’s literally how every student in this university contacts us."
The guy's jaw tensed, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to bolt. His foot tapped once against the tiled floor before he exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging slightly. "I know," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "But this is… personal. I couldn’t just write it in an email."
That earned him a moment of silence, the group collectively narrowing their eyes in assessment.
Sheena, always one for dramatic flair, leaned closer to Maloi and whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear, "What if he's here to confess to a crime?"
Maloi hummed in agreement, stroking her chin. "Or maybe he’s being blackmailed by a secret underground organization?"
Stacey rolled her eyes but didn’t dismiss them outright. "Or, you know, it could be an actual problem and not one of your wild conspiracy theories."
"You mean our wild conspiracy theories," Maloi corrected, pointing between herself and Sheena. "We’re a team in this."
"Not a team I want to be a part of," Stacey muttered, turning her attention back to the guy, who looked even more uneasy now.
Aiah, having watched the entire exchange, sighed and leaned back in her seat, fixing him with a more patient—though still cautious—gaze. "Okay. So, it's personal." She gestured for him to continue.
The guy tightened his grip on the sleeves of his hoodie, finally, after a beat of hesitation, he nodded. "Yeah. I need help with something… and I don’t know who else to turn to."
For the first time since he entered the room, the teasing stopped. The tension shifted, growing heavier, more serious. Aiah exchanged a look with her friends—silent communication passing between them.
Then, she turned back to the guy, nodding to. "Alright," she said, voice steady.
She straightened in her chair, slipping effortlessly into her usual role as the lead investigator. The atmosphere in the room shifted as the others followed suit, the casual air from earlier replaced with focused attention. She locked eyes with the guy seated in front of them and started with the basics.
"Let’s start from the top. First, what’s your name?"
The guy hesitated for a moment before answering. "Uh… it’s Nico. Nico Reyes."
Aiah nodded. "Okay, Nico. What exactly do you need our help with?"
At this, Nico looked down at his hands, fingers absentmindedly rubbing against each other. His hesitation was palpable, as if he was debating whether he should even be here. Finally, he sighed, seeming to gather his thoughts. "It’s about my girlfriend” he said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “She—she gave me a letter."
Sheena made an intrigued noise. "Oh? A love letter? That’s cute. People still do that?"
"Right?" Maloi chimed in, grinning. "Handwritten letters? In this day and age? What is this, a historical romance?"
Nico’s face turned red, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Colet, ever the disciplinarian, shot them both a look. "Focus."
Sheena held up her hands in surrender, and Maloi smirked but said nothing else.
Aiah turned her attention back to Nico. "Go on."
Nico shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his already-messy hair. "At first, that’s what I thought it was. She gives me letters all the time, so I didn’t think anything of it.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “But before she handed this one to me, she looked… different. Like she was nervous. She told me not to open it until I got home."
"And when you got home?" Aiah prompted.
Nico exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "I opened it expecting something sweet. But it wasn’t like her usual letters. It wasn’t even a love letter. It was just… random letters. Like, complete gibberish."
Gwen frowned slightly, her brows knitting together. "Random letters? What do you mean?"
Without another word, Nico reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. He hesitated for a second before placing it on the table and sliding it toward them. "I don’t know. See for yourself."
The group instinctively leaned in, their curiosity piqued, the soft rustle of fabric the only sound as they crowded over the desk. Aiah carefully unfolded the letter, smoothing it out on the table.
True to Nico’s words, it wasn’t a normal letter. The letter was neatly written, the penmanship precise. But instead of coherent sentences, the page was filled with what looked like nonsense—a jumble of seemingly random letters strung together in three paragraphs, as though someone had slammed their hands on a keyboard.
Efbs Fuibo,
J epo’u fwfo lopx xifsf up cfhjo, cfdbvtf op xpset dbo usvmz dbquvsf ipx nvdi J mpwf zpv. Gspn uif wfsz gjstu npnfou xf nfu, tpnfuijoh jotjef nf lofx xf xfsf nfbou up cf. Zpv cspvhiu mjhiu joup nz mjgf jo xbzt J ofwfs uipvhiu qpttjcmf, boe fwfsz ebz xjui zpv gfmu mjlf b cfbvujgvm esfbn. Cvu bt nvdi bt ju ivsut nf up tbz uijt, J uijol ju’t ujnf gps vt up csfbl vq. J gffm mjlf J'wf mptu nztfmg tpnfxifsf bmpoh uif xbz, boe J epo’u xbou up lffq zpv jo tpnfuijoh uibu J’n opu tvsf J dbo hjwf nz bmm up boznpsf. Nz ifbsu bdift kvtu uijoljoh bcpvu uijt, cfdbvtf J lopx ju xjmm ivsu zpv. Cvu effq epxo, J cfmjfwf xf offe up xbml ejggfsfou qbuit opx, fwfo jg J dbo’u fyqmbjo fybdumz xiz.
Uifsf’t tpnfuijoh J’wf cffo dbsszjoh xjui nf uibu J offe up dpogftt--tpnfuijoh J sfhsfu npsf uibo bozuijoh. J difbufe po zpv. J epo’u ibwf boz fydvtft, op xbz up kvtujgz xibu J eje. Ju xbt b njtublf, pof uibu J dbo ofwfs ublf cbdl. Uif hvjmu ibt cffo tvggpdbujoh nf, boe uif tibnf J gffm gps cfusbzjoh zpvs usvtu xfjhit po nf fwfsz tjohmf ebz. J dbo’u fwfo cfhjo up fyqmbjo ipx tpssz J bn, ipx nvdi J xjti J dpvme voep uif ivsu J dbvtfe. Uif mpwf J ibwf gps zpv xbt ofwfs nfbou up cf ubjoufe xjui tpnfuijoh tp ufssjcmf, boe J dbo’u gpshjwf nztfmg gps xibu J’wf epof up zpv. J’wf ivsu zpv jo uif xpstu xbz, boe gps uibu, J bn usvmz, effqmz tpssz.
J ibwf up tbz hppeczf opx. J’n mfbwjoh boe usbotgfssjoh tdippmt--ju't b efdjtjpo J’wf nbef gps nztfmg up tubsu pwfs boe usz up ifbm. Qmfbtf voefstuboe uijt jto’u fbtz gps nf. Ju gffmt mjlf J’n xbmljoh bxbz gspn fwfszuijoh uibu nbuufsfe, cvu ju’t tpnfuijoh J ibwf up ep. Zpv eftfswf tpnfpof xip dbo mpwf zpv xjuipvu uijt xfjhiu pg hvjmu, tpnfpof xip dbo cf uifsf gps zpv dpnqmfufmz. J xbou uif cftu gps zpv, Fuibo, xjui bmm nz ifbsu. Qmfbtf epo’u ibuf nf, cvu bmtp, qmfbtf npwf po. J’mm bmxbzt mpwf zpv, jo b xbz uibu’t ibse up fyqmbjo, cvu J uijol ju’t ujnf up mfu hp boe hjwf zpv uif tqbdf up gjoe uif ibqqjoftt zpv eftfswf.
Xjui bmm nz mpwf, Mfob
Silence settled over the room as they studied the cryptic message.
"Well," Maloi finally said, dragging out the word, "this is weird as hell."
"Understatement," Stacey murmured, narrowing her eyes at the paper.
Sheena tilted her head. "What if she was just messing with you? Maybe it’s a joke? Like one of those puzzles where you have to rearrange the letters?"
Nico shook his head immediately. "No, she wouldn’t joke like this. She looked serious when she gave it to me."
Aiah exchanged glances with the others before refocusing on the letter. "It’s definitely some kind of code. The question is—why would she send you a coded message instead of just telling you whatever she wanted to say?"
Nico swallowed, his fingers gripping his knee. "That’s what I want to know. And…" he hesitated before continuing, "I don’t know if I’m just overthinking it, but since she gave me the letter, she’s been avoiding me. She won’t return my texts or calls. It’s like… like she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore."
That made them all look up from the letter.
Aiah’s expression darkened slightly. "That’s… concerning."
"Yeah," Colet agreed, her voice more serious than before. "People don’t just hand off cryptic messages and then vanish."
"So?" Maloi leaned back, crossing her arms. "Looks like we have another mystery on our hands."
Aiah exhaled slowly, fingers lightly tapping against the letter. "Seems like it. First things first—we need to figure out what this message says."
Gwen nodded. "And then?"
Aiah looked up at Nico. "And then we find out what’s really going on with your girlfriend."
------------
The clubroom was silent except for the soft scratch of paper against the table as Aiah carefully turned the letter to get a better look at the arrangement of letters. The air was thick with concentration, the dim glow of the overhead lamp casting long shadows across the room. Outside, it started to rain, the soft patter against the windows created a rhythmic background, barely noticeable against the weight of the moment.
Nico sat stiffly in his chair, fingers gripping his knees so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. His breathing was shallow, his gaze flicking between each member of The Veil as they examined the letter. He looked overwhelmed, as if he'd stepped into something far bigger than he had anticipated, like a man who had walked into a maze with no way out.
Aiah tapped their pen against their notebook, the rhythmic clicking breaking the silence. "It’s structured like a normal letter, which means it’s not just gibberish. It has a message, but it’s been altered."
"What if it’s an anagram?" Maloi suggested, propping her chin on her hand. "Maybe the letters are just scrambled, and we need to rearrange them. Like a puzzle."
Colet exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. "Possible, but unlikely. If that were the case, there’d be some obvious clusters forming words by accident. This looks more deliberate. Too methodical."
Sheena snorted. "Or maybe it’s a secret love confession but written backwards. You know, like some dramatic mystery novel where the heroine hides her true feelings behind cryptic messages."
Stacey shot her an unimpressed look. "Yes, Sheena, because clearly, the best way to confess your feelings is through an unreadable three-paragraph jumble of nonsense. That totally wouldn’t confuse the poor guy."
Sheena grinned. "Hey, love makes people do weird things. Maybe she wanted him to work for it."
"Or maybe," Maloi interjected, eyes gleaming, "it’s a treasure map. If we fold the paper a certain way, maybe the letters will line up to reveal hidden words."
Stacey groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "We are not turning this into some ancient puzzle hunt. It’s a letter, not the Da Vinci Code."
Mikha, who had been jotting things down in her own notebook, adjusted her posture and flipped to a clean page. "What about a book cipher? If the letters correspond to a specific book she knew Nico would have, then they could be references to page numbers or specific words."
Stacey frowned, drumming her fingers against the edge of the table. "That would mean we need the book she had in mind. If she didn’t tell him which one, then we’re stuck unless we can figure it out from context. Did she give you any books recently? Something meaningful between you two?"
Nico swallowed hard. "No... nothing like that."
Sheena, who had been leaning back in her chair, suddenly sat forward, tapping her nails against the wooden surface. "Okay, but what if it’s phonetic? Like, what if you sound it out instead of reading it straight? Maybe the letters form words when spoken aloud. Some codes work like that—written nonsense that makes sense when spoken."
Aiah hummed thoughtfully, her pen tapping against their notebook once more. "That’s an interesting angle. It would explain why it looks like nonsense at first glance."
Gwen grabbed a spare sheet of paper, her movements precise as she started copying down the letter. "Alright, let’s break it down. We’ll check for common patterns first—repeated letter clusters, hidden words, anything that stands out. If that doesn’t work, we’ll start looking into external references."
Maloi leaned over the letter again, then gasped dramatically. "Wait! What if it’s an alien code? Like, what if his girlfriend is actually an undercover agent communicating with extraterrestrials, and this is her way of warning Nico before she gets abducted?"
Sheena's eyes widened, playing along. "Oh man, and she’s trying to tell him to meet her at a secret location before she’s taken to another dimension! Nico, do you happen to know if she’s been acting... otherworldly lately?"
Nico blinked at them, deadpan. "Uh… no. Pretty sure she’s just a regular person."
Stacey sighed heavily, rubbing her temples. "You two are impossible. Can we please focus?"
Sheena shrugged. "Hey, I’m just saying, you never know. Aliens could be out there."
"And you think they’re sending cryptic letters through a college girl?" Stacey crossed her arms.
Maloi nodded sagely. "It’s the perfect cover. No one would suspect it."
Aiah stifled a laugh behind her hand, shaking her head. "Alright, alright. Let’s stop a little. Nico, you said your girlfriend didn’t give you any hints about this before she gave it to you, right?"
Nico shook his head slowly, his expression darkening as he exhaled. "No… that's the thing. As I have told you, I haven’t been able to reach her at all. She hasn’t answered my texts or calls. It’s like she just disappeared. That’s why I came to you." His voice was strained, laced with something between worry and fear. "I think something’s wrong."
A tense silence settled over the group. The letter was no longer just a puzzle—it was a clue. A quiet unease crept into the room, thickening the air between them.
--------------
The letter lay spread out in the center of the table, its cryptic message staring back at them like a locked door without a key. The clubroom, dimly lit by the hanging overhead lamp, seemed to shrink around them, pulling them deeper into the puzzle. Outside, the rain had softened to a drizzle, streaking the windowpanes in winding trails, an eerie contrast to the quiet intensity inside. The air hummed with the soft buzz of an old ceiling fan, its rhythm punctuated by the occasional creak of a shifting chair.
Aiah tapped her pen against her notebook, the sound sharp in the heavy silence. Each member was locked in thought, their faces bathed in the dim yellow light. Gwen's brows knit together in deep concentration, her fingers hovering over the letter as if afraid to touch something sacred. Mikha flipped through her notebook with calculated precision, mapping out the letter frequencies in careful columns, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Nico who had been silent the whole time, looked down at the letter again, his fingers unconsciously tightening around the edge of the table. The weight of it all sat heavily on his shoulders—the uncertainty, the anxiety of not knowing where his girlfriend was, and now, the daunting realization that whatever message she left for him wasn’t something he could solve on his own. The Veil was his last hope.
The clock on the wall ticked, an ever-present reminder of time moving forward, indifferent to his situation.
Then, as if suddenly remembering something, Nico straightened, his gaze darting to his watch. A flicker of panic crossed his face. “Ah, crap—I need to go. My class starts in ten minutes.”
Aiah glanced up from their notes, taking in Nico’s tense posture. “Alright. We’ll keep working on it. If we figure something out, we’ll message you.”
Nico stood, rubbing the back of his neck, his expression still uncertain. “Thanks. I really appreciate this. Let me know the moment you find anything.”
“Of course,” Gwen assured him. “If there’s something hidden in this letter, we’ll find it.”
Sheena gave him a thumbs-up. “And don’t worry—we’ll be careful in case this is an interdimensional warning.”
Stacey groaned. “I swear, Sheena—”
Nico let out a small chuckle, though the tension in his shoulders didn’t ease completely. With one last look at the group, he nodded and headed for the door. As the clubroom fell silent again, the team turned their focus back to the letter. The mystery was still unsolved—but they weren’t about to let it stay that way.
------------
The rain had stopped entirely now, leaving only the occasional drip from the leaves tapping against the windowpane. Inside the clubroom, the air was thick with the weight of unsolved mystery. More papers lay scattered across the table, notes scrawled in margins, various attempts at deciphering the letter abandoned halfway through. The soft ticking of the wall clock pressed forward, each second a reminder that they were no closer to understanding the message Nico’s girlfriend had left behind.
Nico had left for his class nearly thirty minutes ago, but the atmosphere he’d left behind still lingered. His worried expression, the tension in his voice—it was enough to keep them all grounded, enough to make this more than just another intellectual challenge.
Sheena let out a loud groan, stretching her arms over her head dramatically. "Okay, I'm officially declaring this letter a hoax. Ethan’s girlfriend is messing with him. This is all some elaborate prank, and we're the fools wasting our time on—"
A sharp inhale cut through her words.
Aiah, who had been hunched over the letter, suddenly shot upright. "I GOT IT!"
The words came out so loud and sudden that everyone flinched, and Maloi, who had been balancing a pen on the tip of her finger, let it clatter onto the table.
“What? What? What is it?!” Stacey demanded, already leaning in.
Gwen straightened, eyes sharp with curiosity, while Mikha and Colet abandoned their notebooks and laptop to focus entirely on Aiah. Sheena, who had just been about to launch into another complaint, blinked in surprise before scrambling closer, as if proximity would help her understand faster.
"I can't believe it, It's just something super basic that I completely overlooked it" Aiah’s face was lit up with excitement, her fingers trembling slightly as she gestured toward the letter. “I tried everything—Caesar shifts, Vigenère, even some Morse variations—but nothing was making sense! I was about to give up when I noticed something weird, a pattern that felt oddly familiar.”
She tapped the paper insistently. “Look at how the letters repeat in each paragraph—there’s a strange kind of consistency to it, like a near-miss, something just off by the smallest margin. Then it hit me—what if it’s a Rot-1 Cipher?”
Silence.
Aiah was practically vibrating, eyes darting between her teammates expectantly. But instead of triumphant cheers, she was met with… blank stares.
Maloi tilted her head. “A what-now?”
Sheena frowned. “I swear you just started speaking in tongues.”
Even Stacey and Colet, the most logical among them, blinked at Aiah like they’re was waiting for the real explanation.
Aiah’s excitement faltered slightly. “A Rot-1 Cipher,” she repeated, slower this time. “It’s a super basic shift cipher—each letter is just shifted forward by one place in the alphabet. A becomes B, B becomes C, and so on.”
Stacey crossed her arms. “So… you’re telling me that instead of ‘hello,’ it would say ‘ifmmp’?”
Aiah nodded eagerly. “Exactly! And sometimes people overlook it because it’s so stupidly simple that no one thinks to check for it first.”
Sheena squinted. “Wait, so this is just a glorified typo?”
Aiah huffed, crossing her arms. “It’s not a typo, it’s an encryption method—granted, an incredibly basic one, but still! You’d be surprised how often people use it for hiding messages in plain sight.”
Maloi leaned back in her chair. “So let me get this straight—you mean to tell me we’ve spent almost an hour agonizing over this, when the solution was basically ‘scoot the alphabet over a little bit’?”
Aiah bristled. “Oh, I’m sorry my breakthrough wasn’t a world-ending enigma, but yes, Maloi, scooting the alphabet can be effective.”
Colet finally spoke, deadpan as ever. “We are all just trying very hard to process the fact that you screamed like you found the cure for mortality… over this.”
Aiah groaned, dragging a hand down their face. “Okay, yes, maybe I got a little excited, but listen, this could be it! If we apply the shift, the whole letter should reveal its true message!”
Gwen, who had been quietly absorbing all of this, nodded. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s decode it.”
Mikha was already flipping open a fresh page in her notebook, poised to start writing. Sheena and Maloi exchanged one last, skeptical glance before leaning in anyway, because ridiculous or not, this was progress.
The clubroom, which had been drowning in frustrated tension just moments ago, was now filled with renewed energy. Even if they didn’t fully understand Aiah’s enthusiasm, one thing was certain—they were finally getting somewhere.
"Alright, if this really is a Rot-1 cipher," Gwen said, cracking her knuckles, "then all we have to do is shift everything back by one letter."
"Sounds easy enough," Mikha muttered, already jotting down the alphabet on a spare sheet of paper. "A becomes Z, B becomes A, C becomes B... you get the idea. We’ll just reverse the shift."
Sheena let out a dramatic sigh. "Oh great, so now we're human decryption machines. Why couldn’t Nico’s girlfriend have just, I don’t know, texted him?"
"Maybe she wanted to add a little mystery to their relationship," Maloi said with an exaggerated wiggle of her fingers. "Ooooh, spooky cipher love letters."
"Or maybe she wanted to hide something," Colet said, her tone measured.
Aiah ignored the banter, their mind already racing. "Okay, first line—‘Efbs Fuibo.’ Shift back by one…"
Gwen leaned in. "‘Dear Ethan,’" she translated, and the group collectively inhaled.
"Oh, this just got interesting," Stacey murmured, eyes gleaming as she tapped her pen against the table. "What else does it say?"
Aiah and Mikha worked quickly, shifting each letter back as the words started forming. What had once been gibberish was now slowly coming into focus. Aiah started reading aloud.
I don’t even know where to begin, because no words can truly capture how much I love you. From the very first moment we met, something inside me knew we were meant to be. You brought light into my life in ways I never thought possible, and every day with you felt like a beautiful dream.
Sheena groaned. "Oh, for the love of—it's just another love letter? Ethan got all worked up over this?" She threw her hands up. "I swear, if this is just some overly poetic, dramatic—"
"Wait, keep going," Gwen interrupted, frowning as she followed the decryption.
Aiah’s eyes flicked back to the paper. They read faster now, the words coming more naturally as the letter unraveled itself. The warmth of the opening lines started to wane.
But as much as it hurts me to say this, I think it’s time for us to break up. I feel like I’ve lost myself somewhere along the way, and I don’t want to keep you in something that I’m not sure I can give my all to anymore.
A hush fell over the room.
Maloi blinked. "Wait, what?"
Stacey slowly sat back in her chair. "That… took a turn."
"You don’t just hide a breakup letter in a cipher," Colet muttered, her fingers tapping idly against the table. "This isn’t normal."
Aiah swallowed, but forced herself to keep reading.
My heart aches just thinking about this, because I know it will hurt you. But deep down, I believe we need to walk different paths now, even if I can’t explain exactly why.
Sheena frowned. "Ominous much?"
"There’s more," Aiah continued, voice quieter now.
There’s something I’ve been carrying with me that I need to confess—something I regret more than anything. I cheated on you. I don’t have any excuses, no way to justify what I did. It was a mistake, one that I can never take back. The guilt has been suffocating me, and the shame I feel for betraying your trust weighs on me every single day. I can’t even begin to explain how sorry I am, how much I wish I could undo the hurt I caused. The love I have for you was never meant to be tainted with something so terrible, and I can’t forgive myself for what I’ve done to you. I’ve hurt you in the worst way, and for that, I am truly, deeply sorry.
Mikha let out a low whistle. "Wow."
"No way," Maloi said, eyes wide. "No way."
"Hold on," Gwen interjected, her brows furrowed as she scanned further. "That… doesn’t make sense."
"What do you mean?" Stacey asked, still processing what they had just uncovered.
"Look at the next part," Gwen pointed to the final paragraph. "It’s a complete shift in tone. Like… she’s trying to say something else."
Aiah looked back at the letter, rereading the final lines. Their stomach twisted.
I have to say goodbye now. I’m leaving and transferring schools—it’s a decision I’ve made for myself to start over and try to heal. Please understand that this isn’t easy for me, but I can’t stay any longer. I hope one day you can forgive me, Nico. Please don’t hate me, but also, please move on. I will always love you, in a way that’s hard to explain, but I think it’s time to let go.
With all my love, Lena.
"This doesn’t feel like just a breakup letter," Gwen said finally. "It feels like a goodbye letter."
Aiah’s hands clenched around the edges of the paper. The creeping unease that had been coiling in their stomach now settled into something more solid. Something undeniable.
"This isn’t right," Colet murmured. "Why go through all the trouble of encrypting it if she was just breaking up with him? It doesn’t add up."
"But you know… That… really sucks." Sheena said, with a heavy sigh.
"What do you mean?" Stacey asked.
"I mean," Sheena sighed, "he seemed so worried, and we’re about to tell him this?"
Aiah hesitated. "Yeah… I don’t know how we’re supposed to break this to him."
Maloi rubbed the back of her neck. "We have to tell him, right? I mean, it’s his letter."
"Of course," Colet said. "But it’s going to hurt him. Bad."
Sheena leaned back in her chair. "Imagine thinking your girlfriend left you a sweet love letter and then finding out this instead."
"Do we… soften the blow?" Mikha asked hesitantly. "Like, maybe we don’t tell him the cheating part right away?"
Gwen shook her head. "No. If we’re going to tell him, we tell him everything. It’s not our place to hide it."
A heavy silence settled over them. The energy in the room had shifted once more, from excitement to something more somber.
Aiah exhaled and finally said, "Alright. Let’s message him."
-------------
The clubroom felt smaller than before, the air thick and suffocating as they all sat in uneasy silence, waiting. Aiah had sent the message ten minutes ago, and now each second felt stretched, heavy with the weight of what they had to say. The paper with the decrypted letter lay on the table, a quiet reminder of the truth they had uncovered. No one dared to touch it.
When Nico stepped inside, his usual casual demeanor was slightly off—maybe it was the tension in his shoulders or the way his eyes darted between them, immediately sensing the tension in the air. His expression was wary, but he tried to play it off with a small, uncertain smile.
"So?" he asked, shutting the door behind him. "What did it say?"
A series of glances passed between the members of The Veil. Colet nudged Stacey. Stacey nudged Maloi. Maloi, with an exaggerated grimace, elbowed Sheena, who dramatically shoved her right back.
"Ow!" Maloi hissed under her breath. "Why am I getting shoved?"
"You, tell him!" Sheena whispered urgently.
"Why don't you tell him?" Maloi shot back.
Nico raised an eyebrow, shifting on his feet. "Uh, guys? What’s going on?" His voice carried an edge of confusion now. "You’re all acting weird."
Aiah took a slow breath, hands clenched together on the table. This was on her. She’s the leader—it was her responsibility.
"Nico," she began, voice carefully measured, "the letter… whatever you thought it was, it’s not that."
Nico frowned. "What do you mean?"
Aiah hesitated, then exhaled. "It wasn’t a love letter. It’s a breakup one."
The words fell like stones, dull and heavy, into the silence.
Nico stared at them. Then, a short laugh left him—disbelieving, almost amused. "Wait, what? No. No way. That’s—that doesn’t make sense."
No one spoke.
His smile wavered. "You must have made a mistake. Maybe—maybe you misread it? It was coded, right? What if you—"
"We didn’t misread it, Nico," Colet said gently. "She cheated on you."
Nico blinked rapidly, as if trying to process their words, as if forcing them into an order that made sense. "No. That’s—she wouldn’t do that. She just gave me a letter last week saying how much she loved me. We were fine. We were happy. This doesn’t make any sense."
The weight of the room pressed in on them.
Nico fingers curled into his sleeves, gripping the fabric so tightly his knuckles turned white. His breathing grew uneven, his shoulders tensing as if bracing for impact.
"There has to be another explanation," he insisted, voice rising just slightly. "Maybe she wrote this a long time ago and just forgot to throw it away. Or maybe…" He let out a breathy, desperate laugh. "Maybe it’s a test. Maybe she wants to see if I’ll fight for her. Maybe she’s expecting me to—"
"Nico," Gwen interrupted, her voice softer now, a note of pity laced in it.
He shook his head violently. "No, you don’t understand! You don’t know her like I do! She’s not like that! She wouldn’t just—break up with me like this! Not in some stupid coded letter! That’s not who she is!"
His voice cracked at the end, his breath coming shorter, harsher.
Maloi and Sheena exchanged a quick, alarmed glance, shifting uncomfortably. Gwen opened her mouth, possibly to try and calm him, but before she could, Aiah’s voice cut through the air, sharp and unwavering.
"Nico!"
The single word struck the room like a command, sending everything into a stunned silence.
Nico flinched, his shoulders stiffening, his breath hitching mid-sentence. The others froze as well, watching Aiah with wide eyes. She rarely raised her voice, but when she did, it always carried a weight that demanded attention.
The room held its breath.
For a long moment, Nico didn’t speak. His eyes darted to Aiah, to the letter, to the floor—anywhere but at their faces. His breathing had slowed, but his chest still rose and fell in sharp, uneven intervals.
Then, barely above a whisper, he muttered, "It’s not true."
Aiah’s fingers curled into a fist on the table. "Nico—"
"It’s not true!," he repeated, louder now, his voice raw with something between anger and pleading. "This isn’t like her. She wouldn’t do this to me. She wouldn’t just—leave."
His words shook, but his stance was rigid, as if refusing to let himself break.
Then, for the first time since he arrived, Colet spoke.
Her voice was calm, steady, but firm. "Nico. It’s what’s written in the letter."
Nico turned to her, eyes searching, desperately hoping for something—anything—that would contradict what she was saying. That would prove all of this was just some massive misunderstanding. That would make it not true.
But all he found was quiet certainty.
His hands, still clenched, began to tremble.
Then, he inhaled sharply and let out a breath that sounded almost like a sigh, almost like a choked sob. "I... I need to go."
No one moved.
Nico turned stiffly, his movements slow, deliberate, as if he were forcing himself not to break right there in front of them. His steps toward the door were hollow, each footfall echoing louder than it should have in the stillness of the clubroom. No one stopped him. No one could.
The door clicked shut behind him.
For a long moment, no one spoke. It was as if the room itself had lost its voice, their usually lively, chaotic space now eerily still. The air was heavy, thick with words left unsaid, with pity, with regret.
Sheena was the first to break the silence. She let out a long exhale and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her hands over her face. "Well, that sucked."
"No kidding," Maloi muttered, arms crossed, her usual playful demeanor nowhere to be found. "That was... brutal."
Stacey sighed, shaking her head. "I don’t think there was a right way to do it. He was never going to take it well."
"But it still feels awful," Gwen murmured. "Like we just crushed him."
"Because we did crush him," Colet said bluntly, though her voice was laced with something softer than her words. "Even if it wasn’t our fault."
Aiah stared at the spot where Nico had stood moments ago, her fingers tapping restlessly against the table. "I wish there was another way to tell him. A way that didn’t feel like... this."
"Like we just dropped a bomb on him?" Mikha added quietly.
Aiah sighed. "Yeah."
Sheena let out a dry laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Man. Imagine thinking you're getting a love letter only to find out it's a coded breakup. That’s some next-level tragic romance nonsense."
Maloi elbowed her. "Sheena."
"What? I'm just saying." Sheena groaned, letting her head drop against the table. "It just sucks. The whole thing."
"Yeah, well," Stacey said, arms crossed, "it’s not about us. Nico’s the one dealing with the worst of it."
"I know," Sheena muttered. "Doesn’t mean we don’t feel like crap about it."
Another silence fell over them, this one softer, filled with unspoken thoughts.
They all sat there a little longer, each lost in their own thoughts, feeling the weight of what had just happened. It wasn’t often that The Veil was left speechless, but this time, the silence felt inevitable.
Just then….
The bell rang, echoing through the halls indicating the end of the day. It broke the lingering silence that had settled over the group, reminding them that, regardless of the heavy conversation that had taken place, time had moved forward.
One by one, they began to gather their belongings. Chairs scraped against the floor as they slung their bags over their shoulders, their usual energy returning in small bursts as they started to slip back into normalcy.
“Let’s get some food,” Maloi suggested, stretching as she walked toward the door. “I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving,” Colet scoffed but didn’t protest.
“There’s that new place near the station,” Gwen added. “Let’s check it out?”
“I’m in,” Maloi grinned. “Colet?”
Colet sighed but nodded. “Fine. But if it’s overpriced, you’re covering for me.”
Meanwhile, Sheena and Stacey had turned their attention to Mikha, each wearing matching mischievous grins.
“You’re driving us home, right?” Sheena asked, looping her arm around Mikha’s shoulders.
“No.”
“Aw, come on,” Stacey whined, nudging her. “It’s on the way.”
Mikha scoffed. “Your dorms are literally on the opposite side of my dorm.”
“So? It’s not that far,” Sheena pressed.
“It literally is that far,” Mikha deadpanned.
Aiah followed behind them, silent as she listened to the banter, her thoughts still lingering on Nico’s expression before he left. The others were shifting back into their usual selves, but she couldn’t quite shake the heaviness in her chest.
As the last of them walked out the door, she hesitated. Something about the room felt different, like there was something unfinished. With a final glance, she reached for the light switch—
—and then she saw it.
A small piece of paper, half-hidden beneath one of the chairs. It hadn’t been there before, had it?
Frowning, she stepped forward and picked it up. The texture was familiar—similar to the letter Nico had shown them earlier. Her eyes narrowed as she unfolded it, scanning the contents.
Jumbled letters.
MJQU RJ SNHO YMJDWJ FKYJW RJ
Another cipher?
Her heart beat a little faster. What were the chances? This wasn’t Nico’s, was it? Did someone else leave it behind? Aiah’s fingers twitched, itching to decipher it right then and there, but before she could, a voice cut through her thoughts.
“Aiah! What’s taking you so long?”
Sheena’s head poked into the room, her eyebrows raised in question. “We’re leaving!”
Aiah blinked, her grip on the paper tightening for a moment before she quickly folded it and shoved it into her pocket. “Coming.”
She cast one last glance at the now dimly lit clubroom before stepping out, closing the door behind her.
As she walked away, the weight of the paper in her pocket felt heavier than it should have.
The others were still deep in their conversations, the atmosphere lighter than it had been just moments ago. Maloi, Colet, and Gwen were already discussing menu options for their impromptu dinner, while Sheena and Stacey continued pestering Mikha, whose patience was visibly thinning.
Aiah remained quiet, her fingers brushing over the folded note in her pocket. The unsettling coincidence gnawed at her. It could just be random. A meaningless scrap of paper.
But deep down, she knew better.
She didn’t believe in coincidences.
---------------
The group walked together, their footsteps echoing through the quieting halls, the usual playful bickering filling the space between them. The hallway stretched long and dimly lit, the afternoon sun filtering weakly through the high windows, casting elongated shadows across the tiled floor. The walls, lined with lockers and old bulletin boards curling at the edges, seemed to absorb the remnants of student chatter, leaving only a faint, distant murmur in the air.
“I swear, if the place you picked has tiny portions, Gwen, I’m ordering twice, and you’re paying for the second meal,” Maloi declared, shooting a suspicious look at Gwen.
“Why do you assume I’d pick a place like that?” Gwen scoffed. “Do I look like someone who eats overpriced air?”
“You do look like someone who’d be fooled by fancy plating,” Colet mused, dodging when Gwen swatted at her.
Meanwhile, Sheena and Stacey were still attempting to wear Mikha down.
“Think about it, Mikha,” Stacey reasoned. “If you just act like you’re heading in our direction, the universe will reward you for your kindness.”
“With what? Two loud gremlins crammed in my passenger seat?” Mikha deadpanned.
“You’re so dramatic,” Sheena sighed. “It’s called company.”
“More like a hostage situation,” Mikha muttered.
Aiah trailed slightly behind, half-present, half-distracted by the weight of the note in her pocket. Her mind drifted, still circling the events of the day, still trying to shake off the unease that clung to her like a second skin.
Then, in her peripheral vision, something flickered.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Across the hallway, just beyond the corner, a figure moved—silent, pale, otherworldly. Aiah’s entire body tensed as her gaze snapped to it fully, and there, walking slowly down the opposite hallway, was…..
Jhoanna.
Aiah's heart stuttered. Jhoanna moved at an unhurried pace, her steps soundless, her head tilted slightly downward, as if lost in thought. But the way she carried herself—the unnatural stillness of her limbs, the eerie smoothness of her stride—was wrong. Too deliberate. Too detached from the world around her. As if she were gliding rather than walking.
Aiah's stomach twisted into knots as she watched Jhoanna turn the corner at the end of the hallway, disappearing from sight.
She blinked, her mind racing. Had she imagined it? Had exhaustion finally caught up to her? But no, the sight was vivid, too distinct to be a mere trick of the eye. The pale, blurred outline of Jhoanna’s form seemed to flicker, like a candle struggling against the wind.
No. It had to be her.
But how? Why here? She had only ever seen Jhoanna’s ghost in the library. Never outside of it. Never here, in the open halls of the school. Isn’t ghost supposed to be bound on the place they perished? The idea of her being anywhere else, moving beyond the confines of that space, was—impossible. Wasn’t it?
“Aiah?”
Colet’s voice snapped her out of her daze. She turned, realizing they had all stopped a few steps ahead, looking at her with mild confusion.
“I…” Aiah hesitated, her gaze flickering back to where she had seen the ghost, but the spot was empty now. Still, the unease in her chest remained. “You guys go ahead. I just remembered—I have something to do.”
“You sure?” Gwen asked, brows knitting together.
“Yeah,” Aiah nodded, forcing a small smile. “I won’t take long.”
There was some reluctance, but they didn’t push.
“All right, just take care,” Colet said.
“Don’t get snatched,” Maloi joked, though her tone was light.
“She’d be too much of a hassle to kidnap,” Sheena added. “Imagine the poor kidnapper dealing with her.”
“You guys do realize I’m right here?” Aiah deadpanned.
“Exactly,” Maloi grinned. “It’s part of our coping mechanism. Making fun of each other in the face of possible doom.”
“Very healthy,” Stacey muttered dryly.
Aiah waved them off, watching as they turned the corner, their chatter fading as they disappeared from view. Once she was sure they were gone, she exhaled slowly, grounding herself before turning back to the hallway.
She stared at the spot where she had seen Jhoanna. Was she really about to do this? To chase after a ghost, she wasn’t even sure was real?
But the alternative was worse. The alternative was ignoring it, letting it fester in the back of her mind until she drove herself insane wondering what if? What if Jhoanna had been there? What if there was a reason—a warning—in her sudden appearance outside the library?
Her fingers twitched in her pockets.
No, she had to check.
Careful, measured steps carried her forward, her breath quiet as she moved toward the empty hall. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears, every shadow stretching just a little longer, every sound amplified in the quiet aftermath of school hours.
If it was her, if she had seen something—then she needed to know.
-------------
Aiah’s footsteps were slow, deliberate, each one echoing faintly against the now-empty hallway. The distant hum of voices had faded, swallowed by the eerie silence of the school after hours. The fluorescent lights above flickered occasionally, casting wavering shadows against the dull floor. There was a heaviness in the air, the kind that made her skin prickle, the kind that whispered that she shouldn’t be here. And yet, she kept walking.
Her breath hitched slightly as she neared the turn where she had seen Jhoanna disappear. A part of her, the logical part, told her that she had simply imagined it. That after everything today, her mind was just playing tricks on her. But another part—the one that had seen Jhoanna before, had spoken to her, had sat with her in the quiet corners of the library—knew better.
She inhaled deeply, steadying herself. Then, just as she was about to step around the corner—
“BOO!”
Aiah’s entire body jolted as she stumbled back, her heart slamming into her ribs, a sharp gasp escaping her throat. Her hand shot out, gripping the wall for balance as her pulse thundered in her ears.
A burst of laughter rang out in the empty hallway, light and mischievous.
And there she was.
Jhoanna
When Aiah’s vision steadied, she was met with the sight of Jhoanna standing in front of her, doubled over in laughter, her hands on her knees as if she could still feel the weight of her body. Her signature mischievous grin stretched across her face, dark eyes glinting with amusement.
“Damn, Aiah,” Jhoanna mused, shaking her head in faux disappointment. “I thought you were made of sterner stuff. That was way too easy.”
Aiah pressed a hand to her chest, trying to calm the erratic beating of her heart. “What the hell, Jhoanna?!”
“What?” Jhoanna tilted her head, still grinning. “I saw a golden opportunity. I took it.” She shrugged.
Aiah groaned, willing her heart rate to slow. “You are so—” She exhaled sharply, glaring at the ghost in front of her.
Jhoanna, still visibly pleased with herself, leaned casually against the lockers, or at least gave the illusion of doing so. Her form flickered slightly, her presence translucent, the dull color of the lockers bleeding through her like she was a poorly rendered projection. The edges of her figure blurred, shifting in and out of focus if Aiah stared too long. Her dark hair floated subtly, as if caught in a current only she could feel, and her school uniform—eerily pristine despite the years she had been dead—wavered like smoke, just barely solid.
Aiah had seen Jhoanna only as a ghost, had never seen her in life, and yet the girl’s personality shone through every spectral flicker. She was full of movement even in her stillness, all sharp grins and playful energy, a presence that was at once eerie and oddly comforting.
Still, that didn’t excuse the near heart attack she just gave Aiah.
She narrowed her eyes, studying Jhoanna’s ever-grinning face. There was something about the way the ghost looked at her, a gleam of amusement dancing in her translucent eyes, as if she was enjoying some inside joke that Aiah wasn’t privy to.
“Why are you here?” she asked, voice cautious. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the library?”
Jhoanna’s response was immediate—a sharp, amused laugh that echoed through the empty hallway. She placed a hand over her chest, feigning offense. “Wow, Aiah. Didn’t realize you were keeping tabs on me. Should I be flattered?”
Aiah rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
Jhoanna grinned, tilting her head. “No, really, I don’t. You think I’m stuck in the library?”
“You never leave the library,” Aiah pointed out, arms crossing.
Jhoanna smirked. “Or maybe you never saw me outside the library.”
Aiah opened her mouth, then shut it. That was—not entirely—wrong.
Still she pressed on. “But aren’t ghosts usually bound to the place they died?”
Jhoanna blinked at her, then burst into laughter. “Bound? What do you think I am, some tragic gothic novel ghost? Please.” She crossed her arms, shaking her head in faux disappointment. “Stereotyping ghost now, huh? I expected more from you, Aiah.”
Aiah scowled. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
Jhoanna rolled her eyes, still grinning. “I can go wherever I want, Aiah. I’m not some lost puppy tied to a single haunted corner of this school.” She gestured broadly at the hallway. “I could be floating around the cafeteria if I wanted to. Maybe scare some poor kid eating alone. I could linger in the faculty office and eavesdrop on some juicy teacher gossip.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Did you know the Dean of BA Comm has a secret snack stash hidden in his drawer? Pathetic, really.”
Aiah pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re avoiding my question.”
Jhoanna smirked. “Am I?”
“Yes.”
With a dramatic sigh, Jhoanna placed a ghostly hand over her chest, as if deeply wounded. “Fine, fine. If it’ll ease your restless mortal mind.” She tilted her head, watching Aiah with something between amusement and curiosity. “You wanna know why you only ever see me in the library?”
Aiah nodded, arms crossed.
Jhoanna’s grin stretched wider. “Because that’s where you are.”
Aiah blinked. “What?”
Jhoanna shrugged, that infuriating playful glint still in her eyes. “You hang out in the library. I see you there. Simple as that.”
Aiah frowned, trying to process her words. That explanation felt too easy, too obvious. “So… you’ve just been choosing to show up there because I’m there?”
Jhoanna waggled her eyebrows. “Why? You flattered?”
Aiah groaned. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re fun to mess with.” Jhoanna winked. “It’s a dynamic that works, don’t you think?”
Aiah opened her mouth to argue, but the words got caught in her throat.
Jhoanna’s eyes gleamed with amusement at Aiah’s expression, but before Aiah could interrogate her further, Jhoanna let out a loud sigh and stretched again. “But enough about me,” she said, voice deliberately casual. “What about you, huh? What are you doing all the way out here?”
Aiah stiffened at the sudden shift in conversation. “What?”
Jhoanna floated closer, peering at her with exaggerated curiosity. “Isn’t your college building on the complete opposite side of campus?” she asked, voice laced with faux innocence. “Kind of weird to see you way over here.”
Aiah’s brain blanked. Her building—right. It was on the other side of campus. But she had—she had followed Jhoanna—no, she had—
“I—I had something to do,” she said quickly, grasping for an excuse. “I just—”
Her own words cut off as realization struck like a sudden gust of cold wind. Wait.
How did Jhoanna know where her college building was?
Aiah’s breath hitched slightly, eyes narrowing as she slowly looked back up at the ghost in front of her. Jhoanna’s grin was still in place, but now, there was a playful sharpness to it—something mischievous, something knowing.
“How do you know where my college is?” Aiah asked carefully.
Jhoanna blinked at her, then suddenly broke into a wide, too-cheerful smile.
“Oooops,” she sing-songed. “Would you look at the time? I gotta go.”
And before Aiah could so much as blink, Jhoanna’s form flickered—then vanished.
Aiah stood there, utterly speechless, staring at the empty space where Jhoanna had been just moments ago. The weight of the conversation, the teasing, the implications—it all settled over her like a slow, creeping chill.
She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “What the hell was that?”
---------------
Aiah sat on the edge of her bed, the glow of her laptop screen casting soft, shifting shadows against the dorm room walls. The encounter with Jhoanna replayed in her mind over and over, each word, each teasing smirk unraveling a thread of something she couldn’t quite grasp.
Jhoanna had seemed so sure of her answer. Like it was obvious that she could roam freely, like Aiah had been foolish to assume otherwise. But ghosts weren’t supposed to work like that, right?
She frowned, fingers hesitating over the keyboard before she finally typed: Are ghosts tied to the place they died?
A list of articles popped up immediately. Aiah clicked on the first one, scanning the paragraphs.
Spirits are often bound to the locations where they passed away, especially if their death was sudden, violent, or unresolved...
She moved to the next article.
Ghosts frequently haunt the places they once lived or where they met their demise. Strong emotional ties can tether them to specific locations...
Another.
The most commonly reported hauntings occur in places where the spirit died or experienced great trauma. Spirits, by nature, are bound by memory and place...
Aiah sat back, biting her lip. Every source she checked said the same thing. It wasn’t just a superstition; it was practically a rule. The energy of their last moments anchored them, trapping them in loops of existence. Residual hauntings, intelligent spirits, poltergeists—everything she read supported the same conclusion.
But if that were true… then why wasn’t Jhoanna bound to the library?
Aiah exhaled, scrolling further, frustration creeping in. Maybe there was an exception, some rare phenomenon she hadn’t read about yet. Maybe—
Then a thought struck her—sharp, cold, and sudden.
What if Jhoanna didn’t die in the library?
She froze, heart pounding.
She had always assumed—everyone had assumed—that Jhoanna had disappeared there. That was where she was last seen, after all. It made sense.
But there had never been a body.
Aiah’s breath hitched as she sat up straighter. No, there wasn’t. There had never been one. Jhoanna hadn’t died in the library. She had simply vanished from it. And yet, Aiah had only ever seen her there—until today.
Her fingers curled against the bedsheet as new, unsettling questions formed in her mind.
What if Jhoanna had died somewhere else on campus? What if she had disappeared in the library, but her last moments had been elsewhere? Was that why she could roam so freely? Because the place tying her to the living world wasn’t the library at all?
Aiah shuddered. That thought unnerved her more than she wanted to admit.
The dorm room suddenly felt too quiet, the air too still. Aiah’s gaze flicked to her window, half-expecting to see a flicker of white outside, a shadow in the glass.
Her laptop screen dimmed from inactivity, but she didn’t notice. Her mind was spinning too fast, full of questions she wasn’t sure she wanted the answers to.
Jhoanna didn’t remember anything about her life. That was what she had said. She didn’t know how she died, didn’t know why she was a ghost. But what if—what if she wasn’t tied to a place because she didn’t die in a place?
What if no one found her body because…
Aiah shivered, shaking her head. No. Don’t go there.
But the thought lingered, gnawing at the edges of her mind like an itch she couldn’t scratch.
If ghosts haunted the places where they died… then where exactly Jhoanna died?