The Red Season

“You’re not going back there, Lila.”

Her mother’s voice snapped across the small kitchen before Lila even sat down.

“I’m not going back, Mom. I’ve never been there.”

“Don’t play with words. You know what I mean.”

“I know how you feel,” Lila said, setting her coffee down. “But this isn’t about feelings. It’s about answers.”

Mrs. Rowan folded her arms, in a stiff and defensive way. “Answers don’t raise the dead.”

“I’m not trying to raise her. I just want to know what really happened.”

“You already know what happened. Your sister trusted the wrong people. She.” Her mother’s throat caught on the sentence. “She didn’t come home.”

Lila looked away. The sunlight made everything in the room too bright, every crumb on the counter, every reflection off the glass cabinet. Nothing had changed in a year except the silence.

“You think I haven’t played that night in my head?” Mrs. Rowan continued. “The call she made, her voice shaking? I told her to come home. She said she’d be fine. She said, ‘I’ll call you tomorrow.’ That was the last time I heard her voice.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t.” Her mother’s eyes burned. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t be packing your bag for the same place that swallowed her.”

Lila bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted metal. “Mom, Halden isn’t a monster. It’s a school.”

“It took Serena.”

“Someone at Halden took Serena. There’s a difference.”

Her mother slammed a hand against the counter. “You’re chasing ghosts.”

“Maybe they’ll finally stop haunting us if I catch one.”

“You’re nineteen. You should be falling in love, not into graves.” The words cracked apart as she said them. “I can’t lose two daughters to that place.”

Lila’s voice softened. “Then don’t lose me. Let me go.”

Mrs. Rowan stared at her, searching for the little girl who used to cry when Serena left for summer camps. “You even sound like her now,” she said, half-accusing, half-broken.

“Maybe that’s why I have to go,” Lila whispered. “Maybe I’m the only one who still hears her.”

“Lila..”

“I have to try.” She reached for the suitcase by the door. “I’ll call you every night.”

“You’ll call until you can’t.” Her mother stepped closer, gripping her wrist. “They said Serena was safe there too.”

Lila didn’t answer. If she did, she’d stay.

Mrs. Rowan’s voice dropped to a tremor. “Don’t make me bury another red-haired girl.”

Lila flinched, tears pressing behind her eyes. “Then pray I come back with the truth.”

She pulled free, opened the door, and stepped into the cold morning. The wind caught her hair, the same copper shade her sister had worn long and proud. She tucked it into her jacket hood as if that could protect it or her.

The bus ride to Halden took four hours. She spent most of it watching trees blur into green streaks and trying not to think about the last time she’d seen Serena alive. Her sister had waved goodbye at this same station, camera hanging from her neck, smiling like life had just begun.

She thought of her sister, Serena was like a force that held their family together, she was the price daughter of the family. Serena was her best friend as she was an introvert and hardly made friends she was more of a social leper, Serena was very social and made friends with people who were impossible to befriend, she had her life ahead of her only to die a painful death that tore their family apart. Her father lost himself in work and was hardly home, her mother would always lock herself in Serena's room weeping for hours.

She has tried to replace her sister by studying hard but she will never be her sister, she will never be the perfect daughter with the perfect smile, laugh, grades, dress sense and life, she will always be the awkward daughter who hid under the shadow of her sister.

She was making it her duty to solve her sister's death case, her sister had told her things that she felt would point her to the killer, her sister's ghost needed to be put to rest. She recalled her sister told her about the weird gifts she received from a secret admirer, gifts she felt led to her sister's demise in the most brutal way. According to the police report sent to the family her sister was reported missing for three days and she was found dead, drugged and strangled.

Now Lila was following that same path, but every mile felt like stepping deeper into someone else’s shadow.

When the university gates appeared, she almost didn’t recognize them. The photographs from last year’s news articles hadn’t captured how ordinary they looked, the iron, ivy, and the faint sound of students laughing somewhere beyond. Ordinary was worse than ominous.

She stepped off the bus, slinging her bag over her shoulder. The air smelled faintly of rain and coffee from a nearby kiosk. Life went on here, she thought. Serena was a headline, a whisper, not even a warning.

“Welcome to Halden University,” a banner declared in bright blue. The words felt like mockery.

Lila adjusted her backpack and followed the crowd toward the main building. Her phone buzzed, it was her mother again. She ignored it. She couldn’t handle another “come home” message, not before she’d even unpacked.

The philosophy hall stood at the edge of the campus like an afterthought with gray stone, arched doorway, too many windows. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. The corridor smelled of dust and old paper. Voices echoed distantly, professors greeting freshmen, heels clicking on tile.

She felt eyes on her almost immediately. Not hostile, just aware. Students glanced up from conversations, their gaze lingering a too long on her hair. Maybe she imagined it. Maybe not.

Lila swallowed hard and kept walking. Room 104, according to her schedule. Introduction to Ethics.

She turned a corner and collided with someone.

Her bag hit the floor, scattering pens, a notebook, and the small camera she’d brought. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said automatically, bending down to gather her things.

No one answered.

She looked up. The hallway was empty.

“Hello?” Her voice echoed faintly. A door at the far end clicked shut, but she couldn’t tell which one. She picked up the rest of her things quickly, heart knocking against her ribs.

Something white stuck out from beneath her notebook. A folded piece of paper she hadn’t seen before.

She hesitated, glancing around again, she was still alone then she unfolded it.

A typed message, stared back at her.

“You came back.”

Her fingers went cold. The paper trembled in her hand. She turned it over, it was blank. There was no name, no signature.

Her throat tightened. She looked up again, scanning the hallway. Just a few students passed.

Then, there was silence.

The note crinkled between her fingers as she folded it again, slower this time. Whoever had written it knew exactly who she was. Her mind was flooded with questions as she

stood up.

Is this a clue to her sister's murder? Who bumped into her? How did the person recognize her?