The Heart Ring

Chapter 3 – Secrets and Shadows

By midweek, Abby felt like she was walking through school with a neon sign flashing over her head: She’s hiding something.

Kimi wasn’t about to let her off the hook. She intercepted Abby between classes, sliding neatly into her path like she’d practiced it. “You’re avoiding me.”

Abby shifted her books. “I’m late.”

“You’re lying.”

They were in the math wing, where the ceilings sagged a little and the lockers smelled faintly of bleach from last night’s mopping. Kids streamed past, some laughing, some grumbling. The glow of their emotions pulsed like beacons Abby was trying not to see. She kept her eyes on Kimi’s face instead.

“I told you,” Abby said, forcing her voice level, “I’m fine.”

“Fine means not fine,” Kimi shot back. “You know that’s my rule.”

Abby’s pulse picked up. The ring pressed against her skin, cooler than the air, like it was listening.

Kimi leaned in. “You sat with Marcy. You’re spacing out every five minutes. You flinch when people touch you, like they’re electric. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Abby’s throat worked. The words rose—I can see their hearts, I can see too much, I don’t know how to stop—but Grandpa’s warning rang louder: That’s not a toy, girl.

If she handed Kimi this truth and something went wrong, it wouldn’t just be her bearing it.

“I can’t,” she whispered.

Kimi’s expression softened, but her jaw set. “Then I’ll wait. But don’t you dare shut me out forever.”

She bumped Abby’s shoulder, gentler this time, and let the current of students carry her off. Abby stood frozen for a beat, heart thudding, until the second bell shoved her into motion.

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That afternoon, the hall near the stairwell was almost empty. Abby turned the corner—and stopped cold.

Randy leaned against the lockers, head down, fists jammed into his hoodie pocket. His glow had changed. It wasn’t just red anger anymore. It boiled darker, purple bruising the edges, black threads curling outward like smoke in water. The air around him looked warped, rippling like summer heat, though the hall was drafty-cold.

Abby’s mouth went dry. She took one step closer. “Randy?”

His head snapped up. His eyes were bloodshot, jaw tight. “What?”

The shadow stirred, rising from his chest, stretching long against the cinderblock wall. Abby’s pulse thundered in her ears. She could almost hear it breathing.

“Nothing,” she whispered, the word catching in her throat.

Randy sneered, grabbed his backpack, and shouldered past her. His glow dragged after him like oil slick, staining the air before thinning into nothing.

Abby leaned against the lockers, legs shaking.

The ring burned against her skin, hot enough to hurt. She pressed her palm over it, trying to still the tremor.

This wasn’t just moods. Not just sadness or joy or anger. This was something bigger, hungrier. Something using her brother like a fuel source.

Her vision blurred with sudden tears. She wanted to run after Kimi, spill everything, beg for help. But what if she pulled Kimi into the same darkness? What if the shadow fed on anyone who knew?

Grandpa’s voice threaded through the fear: That’s not a toy, girl.

She pressed the heel of her hand to her eyes. Maybe he hadn’t been warning her. Maybe he’d been apologizing.