The lights flickered. Then everything went dark.Harper ran downstairs to the hall.
Harper clutched the notebook tight, its pages still humming faintly with heat as if they remembered the sigil she had drawn.
Then at the speaker the sound echoed all through the hall—
Rebooting System: BELLRIDGE-HALL
The words flickered across every smartboard, every screen, every digital clock. Even the vending machine near the hallway blinked the phrase in blocky red letters. Harper stepped back, watching the world around her freeze.
And then come back to life.
Harper hugged Jamie tightly..Jamie gently kept her head on his shoulder as he kiss her hair.Then harper pushed from the hug as...
Lights snapped on one by one, in sections. Electric whines echoed down the halls. Doors hissed open then slammed shut again. Somewhere upstairs, an alarm chirped three times and stopped.
But it wasn't just the machines.
People–students–paused mid-step, mid-conversation. Their eyes glazed over for a second.
And then they blinked, smiled, and moved like nothing had happened.
Harper moved through them like a ghost, heart pounding. Nothing felt right. The air buzzed too loudly. The floors vibrated faintly. The walls had that same humming warmth of the notebook pages.
She ran to the third-floor hallway.
Room 13A was gone.
But now… so was Room 13B.
Only a blank stretch of wall remained, smooth and spotless like nothing had ever been built there.
She stared, breath catching in her throat.
That wasn't right.
13B had always been there—even after her erasure. It had been the class next to the void. Now the void had grown.
She reached out and placed her palm on the wall.
It rippled.
Like water.
Behind her, a voice said, "You shouldn't have done that."
She spun.
Jamie.
He remembered.
"Jamie?" she whispered.
He nodded. "You glitched the system, Harper. That wasn't just a symbol you used. That was a trigger. It started the reboot—of everything."
"What does that mean?"
"It means Bellridge is rebuilding itself from its last clean backup."
Harper frowned. "Backup of what?"
"Of people. Of time. Of rooms. Every seven days, the system wipes the corruption. It restores what's safe… and deletes what's not."
She swallowed hard. "But I'm still here. You are also"
"For now." Jamie stepped closer. "You used a signature from 62 years ago—Katherine's version. It forced the system to register you as an anchor. That's why it didn't delete you.And i don't know about me maybe system want us to be together for now"
"I don't understand but i think u shouldn't be like this."
Jamie looked at the wall behind her. "You will understand. But not here."
The wall shimmered again, revealing a faint door outline that hadn't been there a moment ago.
13A.
Back again.
Jamie met her eyes. "Room 13A is rebuilding. And inside... it remembers both of you."
Harper stared at the door as it began to open on its own.
Something was waiting.
Something that knew her name– and the version of her that never left.