Invisible Strings

Chapter 9: March

Monday arrived soft and gray, the kind of morning that made the campus feel hushed. Hannah drifted into class a little later than usual, slipping into her chair with a soft sigh. She buried herself in her notebook, tracing lines of ink without truly reading, her eyes flicking toward Isadora for a brief reassurance. Isadora caught the glance and offered a tiny, comforting smile, careful not to crowd her.

By Tuesday, Hannah had taken to sitting at the edge of the courtyard during lunch, flipping through a book with a rhythm that was mechanical rather than thoughtful. Groups of students gathered around, laughing with their friends, the warmth in their chatter making the emptiness in her chest more pronounced. Isadora passed by, murmuring a quiet, "I'll see you after class," letting Hannah have that small anchor without forcing conversation.

Wednesday came with music and motion. Hannah performed her composition in class with precision, her fingers flowing across the keys like water. But even in the beauty of her playing, she seemed distant, eyes avoiding contact, shoulders tense. More then normal if that was even possible for Hannah. Isadora noted the hesitation in her voice when asked a question, the tiny quiver of self-consciousness she couldn't quite hide.

By Thursday, the courtyard was bright and fragrant with spring blooms, yet Hannah moved through the halls like a shadow of herself. A few classmates snickered at an innocent joke about upcoming assignment pairings. Hannah flinched, pulling her bag a little closer, but said nothing. Isadora watched from a distance, heart tightening. She knew this week was heavier on Hannah than anyone would realize.

Friday stretched long and muted. Even the sunlight seemed dimmer as Hannah drifted through her classes, quieter than before, keeping to the edges of every room. During a walk to the library, she held her bag to her chest, shoulders slightly hunched. Isadora walked beside her, matching her pace, offering a steady presence without words, letting Hannah draw comfort simply from her nearness.

Later, when the campus had emptied and night began to creep along the pathways, Isadora sat in her quarters, chest tight, fingers hovering over her laptop. The record she had found weeks ago... Hannah's father's arrest for exploiting vanishers, for trafficking children with gifts like hers pressed against her mind. The quiet, haunted looks Hannah had thrown at the world this week replayed in her thoughts, every small flinch and hesitant gesture adding weight.

The corridors were quiet, the usual hum of students long gone. Lanterns flickered softly along the walls, casting pools of warm light over the stone floors. Isadora's steps were brisk but measured, her mind tangled with worry. She had carried the record in her mind all week, replaying every small flinch, every quiet sigh from Hannah. Tonight, she couldn't wait any longer.

She reached Hannah's dorm and knocked gently. "Hannah?"

The door cracked open. Hannah peeked out, eyes wide, cheeks flushing slightly. "Isadora...?" she murmured, her voice soft but curious.

Isadora's chest tightened. "I'm sorry for showing up like this," she said quickly, voice laced with urgency. "I... I just couldn't stop thinking about you all week. I had to make sure you're okay."

Hannah's brow furrowed slightly, noticing the tension, the shadow of worry in Isadora's eyes. Before Isadora could speak again, Hannah stepped forward instinctively, resting her hands lightly on Isadora's arms. "You're upset," she said quietly, stepping back to let Isaodra in.

Isadora's throat tightened, and she let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "I... I looked up some things," she admitted softly, struggling for words. "About your family."

Hannah froze, hands gripping Isadora's arms a little tighter before she dropped them and instinctively stepped back. Her heart sank, an icy knot forming in her stomach. "...You... you what?" she asked, voice trembling slightly, a mix of hurt and shock.