The nursery entrance wasn't a gate.It was an old staircase, swallowed by vines and moss, leading to a rusted arch that read "The Blooming Mirage" in faded gold letters.
"Fancy name for a dump," Wang whispered.
But Sam said nothing.Because she had seen something else.Carved into the vines... another symbol.A flower with too many petals, wrapped in thorns.
The students chattered ahead, some taking selfies, others laughing.
But Sam?She was listening.To the buzzing under her skin.To the way the shadows flickered, even when the wind was dead still.
And as they climbed the stairs, Sam heard a voice—not aloud, but in her head.
"Do not touch them."
She turned sharply.
The man—Sakda—was gone.
But the words stayed.Like a stain in her mind.
And then...It began.