For months, Nora had known Madison as someone who enjoyed making other people uncomfortable.
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The girl who could humiliate a classmate and laugh while others watched.
The girl who treated an ordinary refusal as a personal attack.
The girl who followed Nora into an empty restroom because she could not tolerate being told no.
Now that same girl appeared terrified by a message on her own phone.
And Nora began to wonder whether Madison had been afraid of something long before Nora realized there was anything to fear.
The phone vibrated again.
BZZZT.
Both girls looked down.
Another notification appeared beneath the first.
DOES SHE HAVE THE SAME MARK?
Nora felt the blood drain from her face.
For several seconds, she could only stare.
The same mark?
There was no photograph attached to the visible message.
No explanation.
No indication of whose mark the sender meant.
But Nora already knew what part of herself had been exposed.
Her fingers moved instinctively toward the tiny crescent above her left eyebrow.
The birthmark.
The mark her mother had always told her was ordinary.
The mark she had carried since birth.
The mark Madison had struck dangerously close to only moments earlier.
A terrible possibility entered Nora’s mind.
Could the messages be about her?
She did not want to answer that question.
She wanted the words to refer to something else.
Anything else.
But Madison’s expression was giving her reason to fear otherwise.
Nora looked up.
“Why are they asking about my birthmark?”
Madison froze.
The two girls stared at each other.
Nora noticed how carefully Madison avoided looking at her forehead.
That avoidance was worse than an answer.
“Madison.”
The blonde girl scrambled onto her knees.
“Move.”
Nora remained beside the sink.
“Who sent those messages?”
“That doesn’t concern you.”
“Then why does it sound like they’re talking about me?”
Madison lunged toward the phone.
“STOP LOOKING AT THAT!”
Her voice cracked on the final word.
Nora flinched.
Madison grabbed the device and turned it toward herself, holding it so tightly that her fingers whitened around its edges.
For an instant, the screen illuminated her face.
Nora saw the panic in her blue eyes.
Not annoyance.
Not embarrassment.
Panic.
Madison tapped at the screen with hurried movements.
Nora could not see what she was doing.
She did not know whether Madison was trying to hide the messages, contact the sender, or simply stop another notification from appearing.
But she could see that the blonde girl was desperate.
“Madison, answer me.”
No response.
“Who is asking about my birthmark?”
Madison’s eyes flicked toward the door.
Nora followed the movement.
The restroom entrance stood only a few steps away.
The possibility that Madison might try to leave suddenly frightened her.
If Madison walked out with the phone, Nora would be left with nothing but two messages she had barely had time to read.
And the questions they raised.
She thought of telling a teacher.
She thought of explaining what had happened.
But she could already imagine how impossible the story might sound.
A girl had pushed her into a mirror.
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A phone had fallen.
A message appeared asking about blood.
A second message asked about a mark.
Nora had no proof that the sender meant her.
She had no idea who the sender was.
She did not even know whether the messages were part of something dangerous or a terrible coincidence.
All she had was Madison’s fear.
And the small crescent above her eyebrow.
“Please,” Nora said quietly.
“Just tell me what’s happening.”
For a moment, Madison looked at her.
Something passed across the blonde girl’s face.
Nora thought she might finally speak.
Instead, Madison tightened her grip on the phone.
“You need to stop asking.”
Nora swallowed.
“Why?”
Madison said nothing.
Nora tried again.
“Did somebody tell you to do this?”
Madison’s face went still.
The silence that followed seemed to answer nothing and suggest everything.
Nora could hear the faint electrical buzz above the mirrors.
She could hear her own uneven breathing.
She could hear the distant sounds of students moving through the building.
But Madison did not speak.
Nora’s thoughts began racing.
Was someone outside the restroom involved?
Had someone known Madison intended to confront her?
Had the person sending the messages been waiting for something specific to happen?
Or had Nora misunderstood the entire situation?
She wanted to reject every possibility.
She wanted to believe Madison was simply a cruel teenager who had lost control of her temper.
That would have been terrible enough.
But at least it would have been understandable.
The messages changed everything.
Nora looked at Madison again.
“Did you know about my birthmark before today?”
Madison’s eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“Did you?”
“Everybody can see your face.”
