Aurora’s P.O.V
The next week, just as Mr. Hemming had said, the biology test took place. As soon as I got the paper, my heart pounded in fear for a moment, but then, as I read through the questions, a rush of relief washed over me. I knew the answers. Every single one. It felt almost surreal—just last week, I had been drowning in confusion, and now, everything made perfect sense. Caroline’s notes had been a lifesaver. I could already imagine how grateful I’d feel when I thanked her later.
I focused on my test, my pen moving smoothly across the paper, my confidence growing with every answer I wrote. For the first time in a long while, I felt good about an exam. No second-guessing, no blank spaces—just pure, solid knowledge. But then, just as I was midway through a particularly detailed answer, something completely unexpected happened.
A rough hand snatched my test away. My head jerked up in shock, my breath catching as I found myself staring straight into the sharp, unyielding eyes of Mr. Hemming. His expression was cold, suspicious. I frowned, confusion swirling inside me.
"Show me your cheat sheets," he demanded, his voice carrying an accusation so sharp it cut through the stunned silence that followed.
My mouth fell open. "What?" I whispered, barely able to process what was happening. "I don’t have any."
He scoffed, shaking my test paper in his hand. "Oh, really? Someone who failed just last week suddenly knows all the answers? That doesn’t happen, Aurora." His voice dripped with doubt, and the weight of his words settled like a stone in my chest.
I swallowed, my throat dry. "I studied," I said, my voice steady despite the way my hands had begun to tremble. "I worked hard for this test. I swear I—"
Mr. Hemming folded his arms, unimpressed. "I don’t believe you," he said flatly. "Stay back after class."
I sat there, frozen, as the other students exchanged glances, some of them whispering, a few smirking like they found this amusing. My face burned with humiliation. I wanted to scream that I hadn’t cheated, that I had actually put in the effort, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. Mr. Hemming had already made up his mind.
The sound of rustling papers filled the air as students turned in their tests, the quiet shuffling of feet accompanying their exit. I sat frozen in my seat, my hands clenched into tight fists on my lap, my nails digging into my palms, but I barely felt the pain. The weight of their silence crushed me—no whispered reassurances, no exchanged glances that told me I wasn’t alone. They had all moved on as if my world wasn’t unraveling right in front of them.
I don’t know how time flew by, but soon, everyone was handing in their papers and the sound of books shuffling and desks scraping against the floor filled the air, as did the sound of the final bell.
Students began to filter out immediately, while I sat frozen like a statue, still dumbfounded as to what had happened. My eyes landed on Caleb and his group. I might have seen him stealing a glance at me once, but maybe I was mistaken.
As Caroline reached the door, she hesitated. Her eyes met mine, filled with something dangerously close to pity, and I hated it. I didn’t need her pity. I needed her to say something, to stay, to fight for me. But before she could, Caleb’s hand found her wrist, and he gave her a small shake of his head. Whatever hesitation she had disappeared, and she let him lead her out. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing me in with Mr. Hemming.
A heavy silence settled in the room, suffocating and thick. I could hear the distant chatter of students in the hallway, the world continuing as if I wasn’t on the verge of breaking apart. Mr. Hemming’s chair creaked as he leaned back, regarding me with an unreadable expression. There was something cold about the way he studied me now, something that told me he had already made up his mind.
“You know why you’re still here, don’t you?” His voice was calm, measured.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, lifting my chin, even as my insides twisted with anger and fear. “I didn’t cheat.” My voice was steadier than I expected, but it wasn’t enough.
A small sigh left his lips as he stood, walking to the door. The soft thud of it locking was deafening, final. “That’s for me to decide.”
A shiver ran down my spine as I stared at the locked door. What…just happened?
*
A stillness settled, thick and suffocating. I could hear my own breathing, shallow and uneven.
"Come here," Mr. Hemming said, his tone now completely different—no longer the authoritative instructor but something else. Something worse.
My feet refused to move. I clutched the strap of my backpack, my fingers curling tightly around it as if it were my only lifeline.
"Aurora," he repeated, softer this time, but it sent an ice-cold shiver down my spine.
I forced myself to take one step forward. Then another. My instincts screamed at me to run, to bolt out of the room, but my body wouldn't listen. I was trapped, caught in a nightmare that I couldn't wake up from.
Mr. Hemming walked around his desk, closing the distance between us. "You're struggling in my class," he murmured, his voice carrying a false kindness that made my stomach twist in knots. "I just want to help."
I didn't believe him. Not for a second. My mouth felt dry, my voice lodged somewhere in my throat.
"You don't have to be so nervous," he continued, stepping closer. Too close. I could feel the heat of his presence, the way his shadow loomed over me. "I don’t bite. I only want to help you, Aurora. After all…you’re all alone, with no one beside you. Unsupervised…"
A cold sweat broke out on my skin. Every nerve in my body was screaming for me to do something, anything. The door was behind him. The windows were too high. My nails dug into my palm as I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze.
"I—I should go," I stammered, taking a shaky step back.
But his hand shot out, gripping my wrist, his fingers curling around it like a vice. My breath hitched. My heart slammed against my ribs.
"Not yet," he said, smiling now, but it wasn't kind. It was something else entirely.
I had always known that the world was cruel, but I never imagined I would be caught in such a nightmare. My heart pounded against my ribcage as I stood frozen in front of Mr. Hemming, the man I thought was a decent human being. His beady eyes gleamed with a sinister light, his lips curling into a smirk that made my stomach churn with unease.
"You look just like your mother," he murmured, his fingers tapping against the wooden desk between us. "She was a beauty too, wasn't she?"
I swallowed hard, my mind racing. "Why are you doing this?" My voice came out steadier than I expected, but inside, I was unraveling.
He chuckled like this was all some twisted game to him. "Oh, I haven’t done anything yet, have I?" He smiled that creepy smile, his grip tightening on mine. "And you see, Aurora, I want to help you. But after all…help comes at a price, doesn’t it? I mean…you don’t have anyone to look after you…wouldn’t it be nice if I stepped into the role of a…parental figure."
The way he spoke told me there was not a single ‘parental’ thought in his mind.
I took a shaky step back, my palms damp with sweat. "It’s alright, Mr. Hemming…I—I already have a parent." My voice rose, a mix of anger and fear bleeding through.
Mr. Hemming's expression darkened in an instant, the amusement draining from his face. "No, sweetheart, you don’t. Because your father? He’s a coward. He’s not going stop me no matter what I do to you. But you... you’re right here. And right now…no matter what happens…I can do anything without consequences. Because no one will believe a stupid charity case…"
My blood turned ice-cold. I knew where this was going. "Stay away from me," I warned, but my voice wavered. He saw it—he could smell the fear radiating off me like a wounded animal.
In a blink, he started moving toward me with deliberate slowness, like a predator stalking its prey. "Now, now," he cooed, reaching out, "no need to be scared. I promise, it won’t hurt. Much."
I bolted. Instinct took over, and I turned on my heel, aiming for the door. I barely made it two steps before a rough hand clamped down on my wrist, yanking me backward so hard I stumbled, my back colliding against his solid chest.
"Where do you think you're going?" His breath was hot against my ear, his grip tightening painfully around my wrist. I thrashed against him, kicking and clawing, but he was too strong.
"Let me go!" I screamed, my nails digging into his arm, but he only laughed, the sound cruel and mocking.
"Feisty little thing," he muttered before shoving me onto the floor.
Pain shot up my side as I hit the ground, gasping. Before I could scramble away, he was on top of me, his heavy weight pinning me down. My heartbeat roared in my ears, my breaths coming in panicked gasps as he straddled me, his hands forcing my wrists above my head.
"Please," I begged, my voice barely a whisper, my vision blurring with tears. "Please don’t do this."
His grin was all teeth, his eyes dark with hunger. "Oh, sweetheart," he purred, "I’m just taking care of you."
A sob tore from my throat as I struggled beneath him, my body shaking violently. No. No.
This couldn't be happening. Not like this. Not to me.