the second floor hallway was alive with the usual school-day sounds—muffled conversations behind classroom doors, the occasional squeak of sneakers on linoleum. jenna walked ahead, the others trailing just behind her, their footsteps light, careful. as they reached the open doorway of a science classroom, she slowed, peering inside.

rhonda stood motionless inside, intently staring at the skeleton hanging in the corner of the room.

charley broke the silence first. "rhonda, what are you doing?"

rhonda didn't look away. she lifted a hand, fingers hovering just over the ribcage, as if waiting for something—some confirmation, some feeling of recognition that hadn't come yet.

"i think this is me."

jenna blinked. "what?"

rhonda finally glanced over her shoulder, motioning to the skeleton. "look at the jawline. the crooked baby finger." she glanced down at mr. martin's notebook in her hand. "he wrote that i haunt this corner of the second floor."

charley stepped closer, inspecting the skeleton skeptically. "he didn't mean literally—oh, wait. yeah, maybe he did."

maddie frowned. "weren't your bones buried?"

rhonda shrugged. "how should i know? i wasn't there." she crossed her arms tightly, jaw tense. "maybe my mom donated my body..."

wally, who had been standing by the window, suddenly turned, his voice sharp. "what the hell, rhonda? jesus. this is not about you. we're helping maddie, all right?"

rhonda spun around, her eyes flashing. "what, like she's the only one of us separated from her body? at least yours is out there sunbathing or getting a foot massage."

maddie's eyes widened. "is that supposed to make me feel better?"

rhonda waved mr. martin's notebook in the air. "the rest of us lab rats have nothing but the cryptic scribblings of a devious chemistry teacher."

charley scoffed. "yeah, who you were swapping intel with behind our backs."

jenna narrowed her eyes. "is there anything else you forgot to tell us?"

rhonda met her stare, her grip tightening on the book. the silence stretched, heavy.

maddie clapped her hands together, cutting the tension. "okay, guys. can we please stop fighting and put this energy into focusing on where janet might be?"

wally exhaled, rolling his shoulders back. "yeah. or at least mr. martin."

rhonda scoffed, flipping the notebook shut. "he's not in this building."

wally turned. "how do you know that?"

rhonda lifted her chin, her voice unwavering. "because i've been around longer than a blue m&m, moose. call it intuition, but i feel it in my bones."

wally scowled. "okay, you're not funny." he spun toward the chalkboard, dragging it forward with a loud scrape. "you know what? forget it. i think i have an idea."

he grabbed a piece of chalk, sketching out a rough outline of the school with quick, confident strokes. "so, team, huddle up."

the others exchanged skeptical glances before stepping closer.

"okay, here it is," wally continued, drawing a large square. "this is our school. mr. martin—" he scribbled an 'm' inside, then began adding a chaotic tangle of arrows and circles "—what we're gonna do is we're gonna fan out and run a naked bootleg. we're all gonna come inside. charley, you're gonna reach around the back and slip in through the backside, while i—"

jenna and charley exchanged a look.

"are you understanding any of this?" charley muttered.

jenna shook her head. "no idea, but you're blushing."

wally blinked, then shook his head. "okay, wait, i'm making this confusing." he gestured wildly. "this is our line of scrimmage, but imagine it upside down—"

maddie groaned. "wally."

he stopped mid-sentence, turning toward her. "yeah?"

maddie gestured toward the chalkboard. "we may need to buy another playbook, because we've been scouring the fallout shelter for the last three days and there's still no sign of mr. martin or janet."

wally ran a hand through his hair. "i know, but i just thought if we looked at the individual notes he kept on each of us—"

rhonda scoffed, waving the notebook. "we have. and somehow, you still think being referred to as a devoted sheepdog is a good thing."

wally ignored her. his expression darkened. "if mr. martin is..." he hesitated. the words tasted strange. "gone."

charley exhaled. "he's gone. okay? he probably jumped beyond the fence or something. i mean, if janet could just climb into maddie's body, who knows what her dr. frankenstein could do?"

the room fell silent.

then—

a voice.

"who's dr. frankenstein?"

the five ghosts froze.

they turned in unison.

a girl from the marching band stood in the doorway, head tilted slightly. her uniform was pristine, but her hands hung at her sides, motionless. her eyes—dark, unfocused—lingered on the chalkboard, like something wasn't computing.

rhonda inhaled sharply.

"oh, dear god."

👻

the band girl—quinn, according to the stitched name on her too-stiff uniform—stood in the doorway, blinking at them like she'd stumbled into a conversation she absolutely wasn't supposed to be hearing.

"a teacher? locked her up?" she asked, her voice laced with disbelief. "for how long?"

silence.

jenna's throat tightened, her eyes flicking to the worn map on the table. she exhaled slowly, voice softer than usual. "we stopped counting the scratches after 150."

quinn's mouth parted slightly. "wait, she was down there for months?"

charley made a vague, dismissive gesture. "look, we're kind of in the middle of a family crisis right now."

wally sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "yeah, so maybe just... go back to marching band practice, okay?

quinn didn't move. instead, her eyes flicked to rhonda. "she said it was time to wake up."

rhonda folded her arms, unimpressed. "yeah, well, i thought you would toss the horn and change into fabric that actually breathes. are those even pants? they look like ironed astroturf."

quinn blinked, glanced down at her legs. "they're highly resistant to the elements." she looked back up. noticing the map, "if that's a map, i could really use one. i kind of forgot where the bathrooms are."

maddie sighed. "it's not that kind of map."

quinn took a step closer, inspecting it.

maddie hesitated before answering, but there wasn't much point in hiding it now. "it's a map of all the places in the school where people... died."

quinn's eyebrows shot up. "did anyone die in a bathroom?"

wally turned to rhonda, voice low and strained. "oh my god, rhonda, can you please take her back?"

rhonda scowled. "why me?"

wally gestured vaguely at quinn. "because... you wake it, you buy it."

maddie cleared her throat, cutting through the nonsense. "okay, focus." she turned back to quinn. "do you know where mr. martin may be hiding? dead chemistry teacher, about this tall, dark hair, smells like stale coffee."

quinn blinked.

nothing.

maddie sighed. "never mind."

jenna clapped her hands together. "okay, new plan. we ignore the fact that the band is apparently a hive mind cult and focus on why mr. martin drew a 'y' over the greenhouse."

wally's eyes dropped to the paper, studying the mark. his brows furrowed.

charley's didn't. instead, something clicked.

"yuri!"

the others turned to him as he moved quickly to the table, tapping the map. "wait. Y could be for yuri. that must be where he died."

maddie's expression flickered with recognition. "is that the dead kid looping at the pottery wheel?"

charley nodded. "uh-huh."

maddie straightened. "we need to talk to him."

wally groaned. "we can't." he gestured vaguely toward the invisible, unseen entity of yuri. "he only speaks russian. and he's completely out of it."

👻

yuri sat at the pottery stool, hunched over a slowly spinning wheel, his hands shaping a lopsided bowl with the patience of someone who had nothing but time. the air smelled thick of dried clay and varnish, the shelves lined with half-finished projects, each one gathering dust.

wally nudged jenna with his elbow. "do you speak any russian?"

jenna gave him a look. "do i look like i speak russian?"

wally considered her for a second. "i mean... you do have a very kgb vibe."

jenna rolled her eyes, turning back to maddie. "do you speak russian?

maddie exhaled sharply. "i speak dictionary." she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and confidently spoke. "Вы бреете ноги?"

yuri stared at her.

jenna blinked. "what did you just ask him?"

maddie hesitated, shifting on her feet. "it was supposed to be 'may i interrupt?' but i might have just asked him if he shaves his legs."

wally gave a slow nod. "mm-hmm."

rhonda, not in the mood for any of this, stepped forward and raised her voice. "DO YOU SPEAK ANY ENGLISH AT ALL?"

yuri didn't blink.

maddie tried again, stepping closer. "yuri, did mr. martin or janet ever come through here?"

yuri kept shaping the clay. didn't flinch, didn't react.

jenna groaned. "yeah, this is going nowhere."

wally nodded in agreement. "dude's been inhaling shellac for, like, 50 years."

rhonda picked up something from the table—a neatly rolled joint. she held it up, arching a brow. "seems like he's been inhaling more than that."

maddie ignored them, determined. she stepped closer to yuri, speaking slowly, enunciating every word like she was explaining algebra to a toddler. "greenhouse. have you been to the greenhouse?"

jenna made a face. "oh jeez, if we're playing charades, i call charley."

charley, who had been inspecting a misshapen teapot in the background, gave a noncommittal, "oh, yeah."

maddie whirled around. "we have to talk to everyone, okay? mr. martin could have been experimenting on every dead kid in this building."

wally frowned. "i don't think he was doing all that."

maddie spoke over him, frustration bubbling over. "someone else is running around in my body right now, and i have no idea where i am. or where she is. i mean, where we are. and even if we do get her back here, we have no idea how to undo a body swap. do we? we know nothing."

jenna chewed her lip, watching maddie's hands shake slightly as she crossed her arms.

maddie exhaled sharply. "so, please, rhonda, do not tell me we're wasting time."

rhonda, unimpressed, pointed at jenna. "that was her. she said that."

jenna sighed but softened as she stepped forward, voice quieter now. "hey." she gently touched maddie's arm. "we're not stopping until we get answers, okay? right?"

rhonda gave a begrudging nod.

jenna smiled, then turned to the others. "why don't we go to the greenhouse? we can come up with a better plan while we're not inhaling glaze dust." she nudged wally with her elbow. "sound good, moose?"

wally shot her a mock glare at the nickname but didn't move away. "yeah, yeah."

charley lingered behind as the others left, the quiet hum of the pottery classroom settling over him like a thin layer of dust. the shelves were lined with haphazard creations, misshapen bowls and crooked vases, each abandoned mid-process.

his fingers trailed along the rim of a squat, lumpy vase. "this class could seriously clean up on etsy," he mused, tilting it in his hands. "like, if this had a brim, i'd wear it." with a dramatic flourish, he plopped the pot onto his head like a makeshift hat.

from the pottery wheel, yuri finally spoke.

"janet made that one."

charley froze.

his whole body twisted around in slow-motion, eyes wide.

👻

the sun was too bright. too harsh. it reflected off the pavement, off the metal bleachers, off the polished sneakers of the cheer squad moving in perfect sync on the courtyard grass. the sharp clap, clap, stomp of their routine filled the space, but there was something else, too.

something hollow.

it was the first practice since lucas. since the funeral. since everything had shattered.

bethany knew what this would be before she even stepped onto the grass. still, the weight of it pressed down on her as she moved forward, her sneakers crunching against the dry earth, her uniform stiff and unfamiliar after days of being shoved in the back of her closet.

the routine ended. amanda blew the whistle, sharp and authoritative, her ponytail snapping over her shoulder as she stepped forward.

"again," she called, voice clipped, shoulders tense. "sharper this time. claire, i swear to god, if you mess up one more—"

"i got it," claire muttered, adjusting her stance, but she wasn't the one who faltered this time.

bethany hesitated just outside the formation, arms crossed tightly over her chest. waiting.

for what? acknowledgment? permission?

amanda didn't look at her.

it shouldn't have surprised her. of course, amanda wasn't going to make this easy. but the way the team followed her lead—how none of them so much as turned their heads in bethany's direction—set her teeth on edge.

the silence felt deliberate.

chloe wiped her forehead dramatically. "mandy, can we take a water break?"

amanda sighed, eyes scanning the team before she nodded. she blew the whistle again. "two minutes."

bethany stepped forward. this was her moment.

"hey," she started, keeping her voice level. controlled.

amanda turned at a glacial pace. her expression unreadable, but her eyes—her eyes were cold.

the squad quieted.

the tension between them settled into something solid, something suffocating.

bethany held her ground. she was not going to shrink.

"you're not on the schedule," amanda said finally, her tone almost bored.

bethany ignored the spike of anger behind her ribs. "i'm still on the team."

amanda's lips twitched into something that was almost a smirk. "actually, you're not."

heat crawled up bethany's spine. "why not?"

"you've been out for days," amanda said, arms crossing over her chest. "we had to make adjustments." her head tilted slightly, mock sympathy dripping from every syllable. "and, well—after everything, it doesn't really feel right to have you here."

the words landed with precision, sharper than any blade.

bethany sucked in a slow breath, but it wasn't enough to steady her.

"that's bullshit," claire muttered, stepping forward.

amanda's gaze snapped to her. "claire."

claire hesitated. her eyes flicked to the rest of the squad, searching for someone to stand beside her. no one moved. no one spoke.

bethany watched the exact second claire gave up. her shoulders tensed, her jaw set, and she stepped back into the crowd.

of course.

"you told him," bethany said suddenly, the realization hitting all at once.

amanda blinked. "excuse me?"

"you told lucas i was talking to the cops," bethany repeated, her voice steadier now. "i only told you. i told you he was hurting jenna, that he killed her, and you ran straight to him."

something flickered in amanda's face. not guilt. not regret. something darker.

"and look what you did," amanda snapped, stepping closer, voice low enough that only bethany could hear now. "you went crazy."

the word hit like a slap.

"he attacked me," bethany said, her pulse hammering. "h-he was gonna kill me."

"oh, please," amanda scoffed, but there was something raw in her voice. something too sharp, too real. "you think anyone's gonna believe that? he was on the football team. everyone loved him. he wasn't some monster. you made him out to be one, and then you—" she exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "you don't get to stand here and act like the victim."

bethany's nails dug into her palms.

"he was my friend," amanda continued, her voice cracking. "he was all of our friend. and you took him from us."

bethany swallowed against the lump in her throat. the stares. the whispers. the suffocating judgment pressing in from all sides.

"i had no choice," she said, but her voice felt small, swallowed up by the weight of everything around her.

amanda took another step back, shaking her head like she couldn't stand to look at her anymore.

"go home, bethany," she said, finality in her tone. "you don't belong here anymore."

bethany's fingers curled into fists, her whole body rigid, trembling with everything she wanted to say but couldn't.

but there was nothing left.

nothing she could say to change this.

so she turned and walked off the field.

she kept her back straight, her chin high, even as the eyes of her former teammates burned into her back. but the second she crossed the courtyard and reached the doors, her steps quickened. her chest tightened. the whispers would follow. they always did.

👻

bethany stormed through the hallway, her sneakers hitting the tile harder than necessary, her breath tight in her chest.

eyes followed her. whispers curled around her like smoke, thick and suffocating.

"she actually came back?"

"can you believe she showed up to practice?"

"i heard she snapped. like, full psycho. that poor guy didn't stand a chance."

"i heard she planned it. just waited for the perfect moment."

"i wouldn't be surprised if she killed jenna too."

her fingers curled into fists, nails pressing into her palms as she reached her locker. she wouldn't react. she wouldn't give them what they wanted.

not a flinch. not a glance. nothing.

she yanked open the metal door with more force than necessary, the clang echoing down the corridor. her books sat untouched inside, neatly stacked, her cheer jacket still folded in the corner from the last practice she actually belonged at. she grabbed it and shoved it into her bag, barely registering the movement.

the voices weren't stopping.

they were never going to stop.

her pulse roared in her ears. the walls of the hallway pressed in around her. she needed air. she needed space.

bethany slammed the locker shut and turned on her heel, making a sharp exit into the first open door she saw.

a classroom. empty.

she didn't just walk in—she exploded through the doorway, her frustration boiling over the second she was out of the hallway. with a sharp, guttural scream, she ripped her backpack off her shoulder and launched it across the room. it smacked against the whiteboard with a loud thud before sliding pitifully to the floor.

then, for good measure, she grabbed the nearest empty chair and kicked it. it barely moved, scraping forward a