Chapter 58 Fifty eight
Molly and her girls moved through the hallway like they owned it—shoulders squared, chins high, the kind of confidence that came from knowing no one ever really pushed back. Lunch period had just started, and the corridors were thick with bodies rushing toward the cafeteria or the courtyard. They didn’t care. They were hunting.
They spotted her near the east stairwell.
The same freshman who’d offered Koda the strawberry cake that morning—small, glasses slipping down her nose, backpack straps twisted tight in her fists. She was alone, hurrying toward the library with her head down, still clutching the empty pink box like it was evidence of something brave she’d done.
Molly’s eyes narrowed.
“There,” she said.
Claudia cracked her knuckles.
Amy smirked.
They closed in fast.
“Hey, cake girl,” Molly called, loud enough to turn a few heads.
The freshman froze mid-step.
She looked up—eyes wide behind her lenses.
Molly stepped right into her path, blocking the way.
“Thought you’d run off and hide after your little moment this morning?”
The girl clutched the box tighter.
“I—I didn’t mean—”
“Shut up,” Claudia snapped.
Amy moved behind her, cutting off retreat.
Molly reached out and snatched the empty box from her hands.
“What’s this? Souvenir?” She turned it over, inspecting the pink frosting smudges. “Pathetic. You really thought Koda would want your sad little cake?”
The girl’s lip trembled.
“I just… I thought—”
“You thought wrong,” Molly said. She crushed the box in her fist, letting the cardboard crumple and fall to the floor. “You embarrassed me in front of everyone. Made me look like a fool while you stood there blushing like some lovesick idiot.”
Heads were turning now—kids slowing down, phones creeping out of pockets.
The freshman took a step back.
Her heel hit the base of the stairwell door.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Molly laughed—sharp, mean.
“Sorry doesn’t fix it.”
She grabbed the front of the girl’s hoodie.
Dragged her forward.
The freshman stumbled.
Claudia took her arm.
Amy pushed the stairwell door open.
They hauled her inside.
Up the stairs.
One flight.
Two.
Three.
The girl didn’t scream—she was too scared, too small, too used to disappearing. She just kept whispering “please” over and over, voice cracking.
At the top, Molly shoved the rooftop access door open.
Cold wind rushed in.
Gravel crunched under their feet.
The city skyline stretched beyond the chain-link fence—gray, indifferent.
Molly dragged the girl toward the edge.
The drop was four stories—straight down to the parking lot, concrete and parked cars waiting like teeth.
The freshman started crying—quiet, hiccupping sobs.
“Please,” she begged. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You existed,” Molly said. “That’s enough.”
She pushed.
The girl’s heels skidded on gravel.
Her back hit the low wall.
Molly leaned in close.
“You think you can just hand Koda a cake and suddenly you matter? You’re nothing. A nobody. And nobody’s coming to save you.”
Claudia laughed.
Amy pulled out her phone—already recording.
The girl’s hands scrabbled at the wall behind her.
Her glasses slipped further down her nose.
Tears streaked her cheeks.
Molly shoved again—harder.
The girl’s feet left the ground for a second—half her body tipping over the edge.
Wind whipped her hair across her face.
She screamed—small, terrified.
Molly smiled wider.
“Say goodbye, loser.”
The rooftop door slammed open.
Harper stood there—breathless, chest heaving.
She’d seen them from the third-floor window: three girls dragging someone smaller up the stairs. Something inside her had snapped—instinct, anger, that same raw power from Saturday night—and she’d run.
Now she stood in the doorway, eyes blazing.
“Stop.”
Molly turned.
Her smile faltered.
Then returned—sharper.
“This doesn’t concern you, Harper.”
Harper stepped forward.
Gravel crunched under her sneakers.
“Let her go.”
Molly laughed—cold, mocking.
“Or what? You gonna cry to your demon boyfriend again?”
Harper’s hands clenched.
The girl whimpered.
Molly shoved once more.
The freshman’s feet slipped—her body tipping further, arms windmilling.
Harper moved.
She didn’t think.
She lunged.
Her palm slammed into Molly’s shoulder.
The force wasn’t human.
It was a shockwave.
Molly flew backward—three full steps—hit the gravel hard, skidding on her back with a sharp grunt.
Claudia and Amy staggered, knocked off balance.
The freshman gasped, scrambling away from the edge on hands and knees.
Harper froze.
Stared at her own hand.
Molly coughed, pushed herself up on her elbows.
Her eyes were wide—shock bleeding into fury.
“What the hell was that?”
Harper didn’t answer.
She couldn’t.
Her heart hammered so hard she felt it in her teeth.
The power from Saturday night—the scream that had thrown beasts across the room—was still there. Stronger now. Raw. Alive under her skin.
She’d barely touched Molly.
And Molly had flown.
Claudia helped Molly up.
Amy stared at Harper like she’d grown horns.
Molly wiped gravel dust from her cheek.
“You’re gonna regret that,” she hissed.
Harper turned to the freshman.
“Come on.”
She held out her hand.
The girl took it—shaking so hard her teeth chattered.
They hurried toward the door.
Molly scrambled to her feet.
“You’re not getting away with this!” she yelled after them. Voice cracking with rage.
Harper didn’t look back.
She pulled the girl through the door, down the stairs, past curious faces in the hallway, until they reached the quiet corner near the nurse’s office.
The freshman leaned against the wall, breathing hard.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I thought—I thought she was really going to—”
Harper squeezed her hand once.
“You’re okay now.”
The girl nodded.
“I’m Lila.”
“Harper.”
Lila managed a small, watery smile.
“You’re… really strong.”
Harper looked down at her hands.
“I didn’t know I was.”
Lila hesitated.
“Are you okay?”
Harper laughed—short, shaky.
“No. But I will be.”
Lila hugged her quickly—fierce, grateful—then hurried off toward the library, still clutching her backpack like a shield.
Harper stood alone for a moment.
Breathing.
Trying to understand what lived inside her now.
Across campus, Molly stormed through the courtyard, Claudia and Amy trailing behind her like angry shadows.
She found Ryan near the gym bleachers—leaning against the railing, cigarette between his fingers, smoke curling into the cold air.
He looked up when she approached.
One look at her face—flushed, gravel dust still clinging to her jacket—and he straightened.
“What happened?”
Molly’s voice shook with fury.
“That bitch Harper—she shoved me. Hard. I flew, Ryan. Like—actually flew. And she saved that little cake freak.”
Ryan exhaled smoke through his nose.
“Flew?”
“I’m not crazy. She barely touched me and I was on my ass. Something’s wrong with her. With all of them.”
Ryan flicked ash onto the ground.
His eyes narrowed.
“Blackthorns always thought they were untouchable.”
Molly stepped closer.
“I want revenge.”
Ryan studied her for a long moment.
Then he smiled—slow, dangerous.
He crushed the cigarette under his boot.
“I’ll help you.”