Chapter 28 Whispering Wall
Inside, taped neatly to the inner wall, was a piece of white paper, the edges perfectly straight, the words typed in crisp black letters.”You have a beautiful, red-haired roommate.”
The coffee nearly slipped from her hand.
Her heart thudded once, hard, before speeding into panic.Her breath caught in her throat.
She looked up and down the hall. Students passed by casually laughing, talking, and completely unaware of what was happening.
She tore the note from the locker and folded it tightly, as if hiding the words would make them less real.
Her phone was already in her hand before she’d even thought about it.
“Asher,” she said the moment he answered, her voice shaking. “Can you come here? Now.”
He must’ve heard something in her tone, because he didn’t ask questions. “Where are you?”
“Philosophy wing near the lockers.”
“I’m on my way.”
He arrived less than ten minutes later, slightly breathless, his hair tousled like he’d run the whole way.
“Lila, what happened?”
She handed him the note without a word.
He read it, his jaw tightening. “Who put this here?”
“I don’t know.”
“When did you last open it?”
“Yesterday. Before the party.”
He frowned, glancing around the corridor. “You should report this to the police.”
She shook her head immediately. “No. It’s probably a stupid prank. People know about the red-hair thing. Maybe someone thought it’d be funny.”
Asher gave her a hard look. “That’s not funny, Lila.”
“I know. But I can’t” She stopped, exhaling shakily. “I can’t go through another investigation. Not yet.”
He sighed, clearly frustrated but trying to stay calm. “At least tell Ruby. She should know.”
“I will,” she said quietly.
When Asher left reluctantly, after making her promise to text if anything strange happened. Lila sat down on a bench outside, the note still clutched in her hand.
Her fingers itched to tear it up, to erase it. But instead, she folded it neatly again and slipped it into her pocket. She didn’t know why. Maybe she just needed to hold something real.
Her phone buzzed.
Ruby.
Lila answered instantly. “Hey”
“Hey yourself,” Ruby said, sounding cheerful. “You survived last night?”
Lila exhaled, tension easing just a little. “Barely.”
Ruby laughed. “You disappeared before I woke up. I thought you’d ditched me for breakfast without me.”
“I had class,” Lila said. Then, more hesitantly, “You’re okay, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Nothing. Just checking.”
Ruby made a teasing noise. “Aw, you do care.”
Lila smiled despite herself. “Don’t push it.”
“I was going to grab lunch later. You in?”
“Maybe. I’ll text you.”
“Cool. Oh, and Lila?”
“Yeah?”
Ruby’s tone softened. “Thanks for last night. It was nice having someone to actually laugh with.”
Lila’s throat tightened unexpectedly. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “It was.”
They hung up.
For a long time after, Lila just sat there, the sunlight warm against her skin, the world continuing as if nothing had changed.
But she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had. That somewhere, behind one of these bright windows, someone was smiling and watching her.
When Lila finally stood to leave, she glanced back at her locker one last time.
A single red rose lay on the floor beneath it fresh, perfect, and beaded with dew.
And this time, it hadn’t been there before.
Ruby had been gone since morning.
Her first class ended at noon. They were supposed to meet for coffee after.
By four o’clock, there was still no text, no call, and no sight of her.
At first, Lila tried to rationalize it.Maybe she’s editing photos. Maybe she met someone. Maybe she just forgot to check her phone. But the more she repeated those excuses, the more hollow they sounded.
By five, her stomach was in knots.
She sat on her bed, phone in hand, refreshing her messages every few minutes hoping, praying, and bargaining silently with the universe.
Outside, the day was slipping into evening. The golden light through the window had turned gray and cold. Lila could hear voices drifting through the dorm hall soft, and nervous whispers.
Someone said a girl from the photography wing hadn’t shown up for critique.
Someone else murmured, “They say it’s happening again.”
The curse is back.
Lila’s breath caught. She gripped her phone so tightly her knuckles turned white.
She told herself not to believe it that it was just gossip, the campus rumor mill spinning tragedy into myth. But deep down, the words stuck like splinters.
Not again. Please not again.
By sunset, she couldn’t sit still anymore.
She grabbed her jacket and camera, ignoring the way her hands trembled, and headed for the photography building.
Her footsteps echoed sharply through the empty hallway loudly, and too alive for a world that suddenly felt hollow.
The air inside the photography department was colder than it should’ve been.The smell of chemical fixer hung heavy in the hall, sharp, metallic, and faintly sweet.
“Ruby?” Her voice came out thin, and uncertain.
No answer.
She checked the classrooms. Everywhere was empty. The editing lab was dark.Her heart was a drum in her ears.
At the end of the hall, the door to the darkroom stood half open with a sliver of black in the pale corridor light.
Something caught her eye just outside it. Ruby’s bag. Her bright red tote with the little camera pins she loved.
Lila’s pulse jumped. She crouched, and touched it. It was still warm, like it hadn’t been there long. Inside were her notebooks, her ID, her phone charger.
But not her phone.
She never goes anywhere without her phone.
“Ruby,” Lila whispered again, softer this time. “Where are you?”
The silence that answered felt alive.
Her phone buzzed suddenly in her hand, making her jump.
A call from an unknown number.
For a second, relief flooded her, maybe it’s her.
She swiped to answer. “Ruby?”
There was a pause. Then a low, calm male voice spoke from the other end.
“You shouldn’t have come here.”
The sound was distorted,but she could hear the faint rhythm of breathing behind the words.
Her stomach flipped. “Who is this?”
No response.
“Where’s Ruby?”
She heard just the breathing, then the line went dead.
She looked down. The call history was blank. There was no number, no duration, and no trace.
Her skin crawled. The hall suddenly felt smaller.The hum of the fluorescent lights grew louder or maybe it was her heartbeat.
“Get out!” her mind whispered. But her legs wouldn’t move.
That’s when she heard it.
The sound of a camera shutter.
It came from somewhere behind her.
She spun around, breath catching and she saw nothing. Just the corridor stretching out, empty. Her reflection flickered faintly in the glass door of the darkroom.
Then,the air smelled faintly of roses.Not fresh ones, but old ones wilted, heavy, and their sweetness turned sour.
Her throat tightened. She backed toward the wall, gripping her phone like a weapon, her eyes darting across every shadow.
“Who’s there?” she whispered. Her voice broke on the last word.
No answer.
She forced herself to turn, to look into the darkroom. Her hand shook as she pushed the door open wider.
The red safelight inside glowed dimly, washing everything in a bloody hue. Sheets of drying film hung from clips, swaying slightly though there was no breeze. The silence was so thick she could hear her pulse in her ears.
On the table, a single photo lay facedown.
She hesitated, then reached for it.
Her fingers brushed the glossy surface still damp. She turned it over.
Her breath hitched.