The days blurred into a hazy, colorless routine for Mia. She attended classes like a ghost moving through the motions, submitted assignments exactly on time — because even in her deepening withdrawal, the thought of disappointing her seniors was unbearable — ate mostly alone in the crowded canteen while staring blankly at her tray, and waited for their texts with a mixture of dread and aching need. When the messages finally came — curt and commanding as always — she obeyed without hesitation.

“Storeroom. 10 mins.”