Rebecca had always known how to pretend she was okay.
After all, she'd had a lot of practice. Her parents died when she was just four years old — a car crash they said, fast and final. She remembered almost nothing about them except the lullaby her mother used to hum and the smell of her father's jacket. After that, it was just her, taken in by her aunt and uncle, both too young to have children of their own and too stubborn to say no to family.
They raised her like their own. She never felt like an outsider, never felt unloved. Her aunt braided her hair every Sunday, and her uncle taught her how to ride a bike on the bumpy road behind their house. They never tried to replace her parents — but they never let her feel the hole, either.
Now, at eighteen, standing in front of the college gates, Rebecca felt that hole again. Not because of grief — but because this was the first time she was alone.
Truly alone.
Her aunt and uncle had hugged her goodbye, proud smiles on their faces, her younger sister waving from the backseat of the car. And now they were gone, leaving her at the foot of one of the most prestigious colleges in the country.
Greybridge University.
It looked like a castle dressed in glass — the buildings old and grand, but mixed with sharp, modern edges. The courtyard had real stone fountains. The grass looked too green to be real. Students passed by in pressed uniforms and designer bags, like they'd walked off the pages of a brochure.
She took a deep breath and rolled her suitcase toward the admin block.
*******************************************************
Her dorm room was… surreal.
Private bedroom. Personal bathroom. A walk-in closet bigger than her aunt's own. A corner shelf filled with snacks—real snacks, too, not the fake, diet kind. She blinked twice just to make sure she wasn't hallucinating.
"No roommate?" she whispered to herself, checking the list again. No other name. Just hers.
She flopped onto the bed, wide-eyed, and pulled out her phone to text her aunt.
> "Room's HUGE. Still no idea why I got in, but it's amazing."
She smiled, pressing "send," then started scrolling through her feed. The usual: memes, friends from high school already complaining about assignments, someone crying about calculus.
Knock knock.
She froze.
It wasn't loud. Just two quick, sharp taps. She waited. Maybe someone got the wrong door.
Knock knock.
This time slower. More deliberate.
Rebecca stood up, walked cautiously to the door, and opened it.
A figure stood in the hallway — tall, completely covered in black. A hoodie with the drawstring pulled tight over their face, dark gloves, and a scarf wrapped high over the mouth. No visible skin. No visible anything.
Before she could say a word, they held out a cream-colored envelope. She reached out instinctively and took it.
And just like that, the person turned and walked away. No words. No explanation. By the time she leaned out to get a better look, they were already gone around the corner.
Her heartbeat picked up. She closed the door slowly and looked down at the envelope. It was blank. No name. No seal.
Just… there.
She placed it on her desk, eyeing it like it might explode, then sat back down on her bed. She didn't open it.
Not yet.
******************************************************
Earlier that day, while exploring the courtyard, she had bumped into a boy near the fountain — literally.
He had been walking fast, head down, earbuds in, and her shoulder had slammed into his chest.
"Ah—sorry," he said quickly, pulling a bud out of his ear.
"No, my fault," she replied, brushing her hair from her eyes.
He looked at her for a half-second, offered a polite smile, and walked away.
She didn't think much of it at the time. Just another student. Cute, Tall, sharp eyes. Moved like he had somewhere to be.