Three friends slip into their abandoned old school at night to find a missing notebook. Inside the dark corridors, they discover they may not be the only ones searching.
When the final bell rang, Olive, Bartek and Lena were still staring at the note they had found pinned to the old school door earlier that day: "Whoever finds the missing note will discover the truth. But the truth does not always bring peace."
By the time darkness settled over the town, they were standing at the rusting gate of the abandoned building beside the new school. The windows were black, the walls cracked, and the entrance hung open as if it had been waiting for them. Olive lifted her phone and switched on the torch. The beam wobbled over the doorway.
"No one's here," she whispered.
Lena gave a nervous laugh that died almost at once. "People say someone still comes here at night. A caretaker. Or something like that."
Bartek snorted, though he kept glancing at the windows. "People say a lot of nonsense."
Inside, the air felt old and sealed away, thick with dust and something sharper, like damp paper. Their footsteps bounced down the corridor in hollow echoes. Room 13 was farther down the hall, its door hanging crooked on one hinge. Lena slowed, then stopped so suddenly that Olive nearly bumped into her.
"There," Lena breathed.
At the end of the corridor stood a battered cupboard, its door slightly open. Something dark was caught in the gap. Olive moved closer and raised the phone. A notebook. Torn at the corners, its cover faded almost to grey, but the name on the front was still readable: Adam Majer.
Before anyone could speak, a metal clang rang out somewhere above them.
Bartek froze. "Was that... upstairs?"
No one answered. A thin light flickered at the far end of the corridor, too weak to be a proper lamp, too steady to be a reflection. Olive felt Lena's fingers dig into her sleeve. Then, from around the corner, came the slow sound of footsteps.
The notebook slipped from the cupboard and landed at their feet with a dry thud. The corridor doors creaked at once, one after another, as if something had just passed along them.
Olive lifted her torch toward the sound.
A shape stood at the end of the hall, motionless in the dim light, and it was looking straight at them.