The school auditorium smelled like hot plastic chairs and nerves. The folding seats squeaked, bodies shifting, sweat mixing with perfume and some kid’s spilled juice. Stage lights flickered—too bright, too sharp—throwing these nasty shadows on Ellie’s cardboard stars. Glitter smudged. Everything looked... wrong.

Camille sat stiff, couldn’t move, heart thumping out of rhythm like—like a warning. Like it knew something. David’s stupid note from the carnival still throbbed in her head—

“School event tomorrow.”

Yeah. Tomorrow is now.

Ellie stood backstage, bouncing, that bright little costume clinging to her. She kept humming, fingers twitching like she was tuning herself. Her tiny voice—pure, untouched—rose and fell. So proud. So damn happy....