Chapter 11: Mason's Turn

Mason didn't come to school the next morning.

By eight-thirty, everyone knew why.

The convenience-store footage had spread through private group chats even though the police had never released it publicly. Someone claimed Mason had been questioned about the prepaid phone. Someone else claimed he had been arrested.

I trusted none of it.

So when three classmates crowded around my desk asking whether Mason was in jail, I gave them the same answer.

One of them blinked. “But he threatened you.”

“The police are investigating. That's all I know.”

Mrs. Hart entered before the bell and asked me to step into the hallway.

Principal Warren was waiting there.

“Your mother has already been informed,” he said. “Mason has been placed on temporary suspension while the school reviews the threat allegation and the group-chat evidence.”

“Officer Ramirez may need another statement from you.”

“Imogen, I also want to apologize for how slowly we responded at first.”

I looked at him.

In my previous life, nobody apologized until there was a funeral.

“Then change the way you respond next time,” I said.

His face tightened, but he nodded.

During lunch, Talia sat across from me without asking.

She looked like she hadn't slept.

“Mason's blaming Greer.”

“That doesn't mean he's telling the truth.”

She stared at me.

“You really don't want to destroy them, do you?”

I put my fork down.

“I want the truth recorded.”

“That's not the same thing.”

In my first life, I had dreamed about people finally believing me. Since waking again, I'd imagined Greer standing where I had stood, surrounded by whispers and unable to escape.

But now that it was happening, I understood the difference between justice and a mob.

A mob didn't care about truth.

It only cared about the next target.

Talia pushed her phone toward me.

“Mason sent this to Sienna last night.”

It was a screenshot of a message.

Mason: “Greer told me to scare her. I'm not taking the fall alone.”

I didn't touch the phone.

“Send it to Officer Ramirez.”

“You don't want it?”

Then she whispered, “There's something else.”

“The man who picked Greer up from the hospital.”

“I saw him once before.”

She rubbed her palms against her skirt.

“Greer told us he was her uncle. But he doesn't look like Patrick Pierce. I know what Patrick looks like because he's been at school fundraisers.”

I already knew that.

“Did you see his car?”

“Black sedan. Expensive. I don't know the model.”

She shook her head.

In my previous life, the truth about that man had surfaced after everything was over.

Greer's father had discovered she had been secretly meeting someone much older.

The scandal had destroyed the perfect image she guarded so viciously.

But memory wasn't evidence.

And I wasn't going to accuse her of anything based on what I remembered from another life.

“Don't post about him,” I said.

“Because we don't know who he is.”

“But you asked Greer about him.”

“So you do know.”

I held her gaze.

“I know enough to know we shouldn't turn another girl's medical visit into entertainment.”

After school, Officer Ramirez met my mother and me in the administration office.

He confirmed only what he was allowed to confirm.

The prepaid phone had been purchased by Mason.

Mason denied sending the photograph of me but admitted buying the phone.

He claimed someone else had asked him to do it.

“Who?” my mother asked.

Officer Ramirez didn't answer directly.

“We're checking his statement against other evidence.”

I knew what that meant.

Greer.

“Has he admitted sending any threats?” I asked.

“He has made partial admissions.”

My mother gripped the strap of her purse.

“The investigation is ongoing.”

When we left the office, Greer's father was standing at the far end of the hallway.

He looked at me for several seconds.

Then he walked over.

My mother immediately stepped between us.

“Can I help you?”

His gaze remained on me.

“I'd like to speak with your daughter.”

“You can speak with me present.”

He gave a stiff nod.

“Imogen, whatever dispute exists between you and Greer has gone far enough.”

“Your daughter posted my photograph.”

“And she made a mistake.”

“Then why hasn't she admitted it?”

I stepped around my mother just enough to meet his eyes.

“Mr. Pierce, I'm not asking anyone to punish Greer for being at a hospital. I'm asking the school to deal with what she did to me.”

“And the questions about her private life?”

“Tell her to stop lying, and people will have fewer questions.”

My mother moved instantly.

“Was that a threat?”

Mr. Pierce looked at her.

Then at the security camera above us.

My mother waited until he disappeared around the corner.

“I don't like him.”

That evening, the school forum went offline.

An announcement replaced it.

“The student discussion board has been temporarily suspended pending review of harassment, privacy, and moderation policies.”

I stared at the message.

Last time, that forum had stayed open while hundreds of people tore me apart.

This time, it had lasted less than a week.

My phone buzzed.

An email from an unfamiliar address.

No threat.

No insult.

Just an attached photograph.

I opened it.

Greer stood outside the hospital.

Beside her was the older man.

His face was clearly visible.

Underneath, the sender had written:

“If you want the truth, ask who he is.”