I stood frozen near the teacher’s desk, my fingers clutching the edge of my notebook so tightly the pages crinkled. The door had clicked shut behind me, and the sound scared me; it was deliberate. I wasn’t alone.

Footsteps echoed softly, sending shivers down my spine. I didn’t need to turn to know who it was. The hair on the back of my neck prickled, and my throat felt stiff.

Damien. The quiet guy . The one who never spoke in class, who watched with those unnerving, half-lidded eyes, as ...