Chapter 4Her Deadly April Fool’s Rebound

I blew through every red light. Before the tires even stopped screeching against the asphalt of the school parking lot, I kicked the door open and bolted.

My parents were right behind me, sprinting toward the main academic building.

There was a crowd of students and faculty gathered on the lawn, pointing up in horror.

On the rooftop, Sophie was standing on the ledge.

She looked like a ghost—swaying in the wind, entirely hollowed out.

I threw open the fire doors, taking the stairs three at a time until I burst onto the roof.

"Soph! I'm here! Step down, baby, please!"

Hearing my voice, Sophie turned her head in agonizing slow motion.

When I saw her face, my heart physically stopped.

One side of her cheek was swollen and purple. Her lip was split. Dark, violent bruises bloomed across her collarbones where her uniform shirt was torn open.

She looked at me, and a devastating, guttural sob tore from her throat.

"I'm sorry... Harriet, I'm so sorry. I should have listened to you. I shouldn't have left."

She was clutching the crushed pink bakery box to her chest, shivering violently despite the afternoon sun.

"I just... I just wanted to get Mom her favorite strawberry cake." Her voice broke. "The alley was so dark... They put a hand over my mouth. I couldn't scream..."

Behind me, my mother let out an inhuman wail. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed onto the concrete, unconscious.

My dad dropped to his knees, his face buried in his hands, screaming until his vocal cords shredded.

"My baby! Daddy's begging you, step away from the edge!"

I swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. I took one agonizingly slow step forward.

"Soph, look at me. This is not your fault. Come to me. Let me take you home." My voice was fierce, vibrating with a desperate promise. "I swear to God, I will hunt them down. I will ruin them."

Sophie flinched, taking a half-step backward. Her heel hovered over nothing but empty air.

"Don't come closer!" she shrieked, shaking her head frantically.

The light had completely died in her eyes. It was just a vast, empty wasteland.

"I'm dirty now, Harriet... I can't live like this."

She set the crushed pink box gently on the ledge. She looked down at our unconscious mother.

"Happy Mother's Day," she whispered.

She closed her eyes and leaned back.

"NO!"

I lunged across the concrete, my fingers grazing the edge of her pleated skirt before she slipped through my grasp.

A sickening, heavy thud echoed from the courtyard below. Then, the deafening screams of the crowd.

In that moment, the entire world went completely, terrifyingly silent.

I knelt on the edge of the roof, staring down at the pavement, the tears falling silently onto my hands.

I had done everything right. I had warned her. I had rushed against the clock. Why? Why did the tragedy still happen?

The ambulance came. My parents were sedated and taken to the hospital.

My phone was vibrating relentlessly in my jacket pocket.

Numbly, I pulled it out and opened my messages.

In our mutual friend group chat, Corey had just dropped a news link.

Headline: Tragic Accident: Local Prep School Student Falls from Roof After Assault.

His text below it was dripping with malicious glee.

See? Harriet's sister actually died.

I told you Bernice had a gift for manifestation. She was just trying to warn Harriet on the livestream.

But Harriet had to be a psycho about it. Karma's a bitch.

A chorus of sycophants immediately chimed in.

Bernice's literally a prophet. Hey B, manifest some lottery numbers for me!

Then, Bernice tagged me.

So, Harriet. Don't you think you owe me a thank you?

My thumb trembled as I held down the audio record button. I let out a feral, jagged scream into the mic.

"Go to hell! You vultures are feeding on my sister's corpse. I swear to god, I will make you pay!"

I deleted the chat and threw the phone back in my pocket.

I wandered aimlessly through the school courtyard. As I walked, students backing away from me, gasping, covering their mouths in horror.

A cold realization washed over me.

I reached into my bag and pulled out my compact mirror. I stopped dead in my tracks.

Vast chunks of my hair had fallen out at the roots.

My cheeks were covered in weeping, blistered red lesions, spreading like wildfire across my skin.

A deep, bone-chilling dread crawled up my spine.

Every single thing on Bernice’s list had come true.

But why?

I refused to accept that magic had killed my sister.

In a daze of grief and rage, I pulled up the archive of the April Fool's livestream.

I watched it frame by frame. I stared at the screen, my eyes burning, scanning every pixel.

Then, I hit pause.

Right before the game started, Bernice had handed me an open bottle of water. I had taken a long drink before reading the note.

My pupils dilated.

The truth hit me like a freight train.