CHAPTER 62: BLACKMAIL.

"Mira," Raquel’s voice wavered beyond the door. "We need to talk. I need to ask you something. And I want you to be honest with me."

Mira’s hand lingered on the doorknob, her eyes sweeping the room one last time to ensure nothing was out of place, then she swung it open.

Her expression was now carefully composed. She still looked tired, yes, pale even, but she held up her entire body steadily.

"Of course I will." She stepped aside, gesturing Raquel in. "Come in."

Raquel hesitated at the door, her nails digging into her palm, before she walked in. Liam had followed her here but he stopped in the hall, folding his arms and leaning on the wall, ready to storm in if needed. Raquel finally stepped into the room, she needed to do this.

Mira shut the door quietly. "So," she said lightly, "What’s keeping you up this early?"

Raquel’s throat felt dry. She stood by the edge of the desk, her arms crossed against her chest like she had to physically hold herself together. "I had a dream," she said at last.

Mira tilted her head. "We all have dreams, Raquel."

"This one wasn’t... normal." Her voice cracked, but she pressed on. "I was in a place I didn’t recognize. A school with total strangers. They all... knew me, but not as me.

"Huh? What do you mean ’not as you’?" Mira asked.

"I mean... not as Raquel. They called me another name. And then my reflection changed. My face changed." Her breathing quickened, the memory still fresh in her mind. "I was... losing pieces of myself. My parents. My room. My friends. Like they were ripped out of my head. And then—" she broke off, her gaze snapping up to Mira’s, "—I heard your voice."

The pause stretched. Mira’s expression didn’t flicker.

"My voice?" she repeated softly.

Raquel nodded. "It said you made me. That I wasn’t who I thought I was."

Mira regarded her carefully, then moved closer. She crouched slightly, so they were at eye level. Her voice came low, almost coaxing. "Raquel, nightmares can be cruel. They take the faces of people you trust, twist them and make them into monsters. You can’t believe everything a dream says."

"But it felt real." Raquel’s fingers trembled against her arm. "Too real. And then when I woke up, I felt...off. My body feels wrong. My skin won’t stop buzzing. And Liam—"

Mira’s eyes flicked to the door at his name, then back to Raquel. "What about Liam?"

Raquel shook her head quickly. "It doesn’t matter. The point is, it wasn’t just a dream. I need to know, Mira, what did you do last night?"

Mira straightened slowly, the faintest of smiles tugging at her mouth, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "Do you really want to know?"

Raquel’s chest tightened. She should’ve said no. But her whisper came out steady.

"Yes."

Mira’s smile lingered, small and practiced.

"I studied," she said simply, as if the word explained everything. "Old articles, surfing the internet. You know me, Raquel, I’m always looking for answers, searching and researching. And we’ve not been to school in like what—three weeks now? Four? I was just trying to catch up."

Raquel frowned. "You studied. All night?"

Mira shrugged dismissively. "Knowledge has its price. Sleepless nights, headaches... the usual. You shouldn’t be surprised to see me a little drained."

But Raquel didn’t buy it. Her gaze sharpened, scanning Mira’s face. The faint shadows under her eyes. The way her skin seemed to have lost some of its color. The dark lines that faintly traced the edges of her wrists when she shifted her hands.

"Then why," Raquel asked, her voice quieter, "do your eyes look pale?"

Mira blinked. "What?"

Raquel’s lips pressed together. "You look sick. Not just tired. Your skin’s... different. Your eyes don’t look the same. If you were just reading, that wouldn’t explain this."

For a moment, Mira’s mask slipped, she showed the tiniest flicker of irritation, but she quickly smoothed it back into place by a chuckle. She turned away, walking toward the window like the accusation didn’t matter.

"Raquel, you’re shaken from a nightmare. You’re seeing things that aren’t there. My eyes are fine. My skin is fine. You want me to be sick because it matches the story you’ve already convinced yourself of."

Raquel’s heart hammered, heat rising in her chest. "I don’t want you to be sick. I want you to tell me the truth!"

Mira turned back to her. "And I have. I told you I studied last night."

"So what about the dream I had?"

"Dreams are funny things, Raquel." she said smoothly. "They pick at the scraps in your mind, and then they play them back to you in the worst possible way. Of course you’d hear my voice, you’ve been tense with me lately."

Raquel shook her head, "that’s not what I’m saying—"

"Isn’t it?" Mira cut in. "You’ve been suspicious of me for weeks. You think I don’t notice the way you watch me? The whispers to Liam, the side eye every time I leave the room? It makes sense that your subconsciousness is turning me into a villain."

Raquel’s throat tightened. "It wasn’t just suspicion. You said things—"

Mira stepped closer, her presence pressing in. "What did I say, Raquel? Go on. Repeat it."

Raquel’s lips parted, but no words came out. The dream had been so vivid, but even now, trying to recall it in Mira’s face-to-face presence, was seeming difficult. Had Mira said exactly those words, or had her mind filled in the blanks?

Mira tilted her head, studying her like a hawk. "See? You can’t even tell what’s real anymore." Her voice softened, almost pitying. "That’s what fear does to you, it distorts your thought process. It makes you forget who’s actually on your side."

Raquel’s nails dug into her palms. "It didn’t feel like fear. It felt like... like the truth."

"And what truth would that be?" Mira’s voice was gentle, "That you’re not who you think you are? That someone is controlling you?" She leaned in, her breath brushing Raquel’s ear. "Do you have proof of that, Raquel? Or just a nightmare you can’t separate from reality?"

Raquel pulled back, shaking her head, her heart pounding. "Why are you twisting this? Why can’t you just answer me?"

Mira straightened, her expression cooling. "Because I won’t let you accuse me of something I didn’t do. And let me be very clear, Raquel—if you go to Liam with this... story of yours, if you fill his head with your nightmare as if it were truth, you’ll only be proving my point."

Raquel froze. "What point?"

"That you’re crazy." Mira’s eyes gleamed, "And once he believes that, once he sees you can’t tell a dream from reality... how long do you think he’ll stay by your side?"."

Mira’s gaze held hers for a while, steady in a way that made Raquel’s stomach twist. Then she laughed—quiet, almost pitying.

"Oh, Raquel," she said softly. "You’ve always been sensitive. You take things to heart too easily. A dream shakes you, and suddenly you’re convinced that what—I’m out to hunt you down."

Raquel flinched, but forced her chin up. "It wasn’t just a dream. My body feels...different. Wrong. And when I woke up, I—"

"You woke up terrified," Mira cut in smoothly. "Your mind spun a story, and now you’re desperate to pin it on something, anything, even me. But Raquel, you need to hear this: not everything has an answer. Sometimes fear is just fear."

Raquel’s fists clenched in her lap. "Then why did I hear your voice?"

"Because I’m in your head," Mira said simply, with a tilt of her head that made the words sound almost tender. "You trust me. You rely on me. Who else would your subconscious choose when you’re spiraling?"

Raquel hesitated. For a second, that explanation almost made sense—almost.

But her eyes darted back to Mira’s skin, pale and stretched thin, and the faint lines she’d noticed before. "That doesn’t explain how you look."

Mira’s smile didn’t falter, but her voice cooled. "Maybe you should look in the mirror before you point fingers. You’re pale too, Raquel. You’ve got dark circles under your eyes. You’re trembling even now. Do you see me accusing you of losing your grip on reality?"

The air between them thickened. Raquel opened her mouth, then shut it, doubt gnawing at her resolve.

Mira stepped closer, her to. "Listen to me. If you go around talking about strange dreams, voices, reflections that don’t look like yours... people will start wondering if you’re stable. Liam may comfort you now, but for how long before he starts questioning you?"

Raquel’s pulse pounded in her ears. "Are you saying I’m crazy?"

"I’m saying," Mira replied, her voice velvet-smooth, "that if you’re not careful, you’ll make yourself sound crazy. And once people believe that, Raquel... there’s no going back."

The words sank into her, heavy and suffocating. Raquel swallowed, her throat drying up, suddenly unsure of herself. Maybe Mira was right. Maybe she was making it bigger than it was.

But Liam had these same feelings too. If Liam feels it too, then I’m not alone. And if I’m not alone, Mira can’t be right.

"I’m not crazy, Mira," she muttered. "I’m not making these things up—"

"Shushhhh," Mira reached out and touched her arm lightly, the gesture oddly comforting. "You had a nightmare. That’s all. Now breathe, and let it go."