Maureen's Bedroom
The moonlight spilled through her window, silver and sharp. Maureen sat cross-legged on her bed, the old notebook open in front of her. Pages rustled in the breeze from the ceiling fan. Celeste's teenage handwriting smiled back at her—swirly hearts, exclamation marks, doodles of flowers.
I hate school lunches lol
Leon looked at me today, I swear my heart stopped
Maureen you're the best best best friend ever
Maureen scoffed.
Best friend.
She stared at those words like they were written in poison.
She closed the book sharply, the sound echoing in her room. Her hands were shaking again. Not from fear—no. From something worse.
From doubt.
Celeste had been allergic to strawberries. Everyone knew that. One bite used to make her break out in hives. But at the welcome dinner last week, Maureen had slipped just a little bit of strawberry syrup into her drink. Just a test. Just to see.
And Celeste had smiled—smiled—and finished the glass.
No itching. No coughing. Nothing.
She'd even said, "Mmm… this tastes familiar."
Maureen hadn't slept since.
At first she thought maybe it was a mistake. Maybe her memory of Celeste's allergy was wrong. But Maureen never forgot things like that. Not when it came to her.
Because Maureen had watched her for years. Hated her. Loved her. Knew her.
Knew everything about her.
And now… now she didn't.
She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and scrolled to Damien's number. He hadn't answered any of her messages in months, but she hit "Call" anyway.
One ring. Two. Three—
"Hello?"
His voice was rough. Half-asleep maybe. Or just annoyed.
"It's me," she said quickly. "Maureen."
Silence.
"I need to talk to you. It's about Celeste."
More silence. She could hear him breathing.
"What about her?"
"She's not who you think she is," Maureen whispered, voice sharp. "I don't think that's really Celeste."
There was a pause. Then a short laugh—cold and dry.
"You're joking."
"I'm not."
"Maureen, what are you even saying?"
"I know it sounds crazy, but I swear—she drank strawberry syrup. STRAWBERRY. And she was fine. Celeste was allergic! She would've collapsed, Damien!"
"You tried to poison her?"
"No! I—" Maureen paused, her voice catching. "It wasn't like that. I just… tested something. Something small."
Damien sighed heavily. "You've lost it. You always hated her, Maureen. Now she's back and what—you're jealous again?"
"I'm telling you the truth!"
"No, you're spiraling," he snapped. "And honestly? It's pathetic. Get help."
Then—click.
The line went dead.
Maureen stared at the screen. For a long time, she didn't move.
Finally, she whispered, "You'll see. All of you."
She threw her phone aside, stormed across her room, and yanked open her closet. Behind stacks of old papers and shoe boxes, she pulled out a binder. Inside it were photos, printed chats, screenshots—stuff she had saved from years ago. Pictures of Celeste, notes, school records.
Everything she could ever need to prove she knew the real Celeste.
If this girl wasn't her…
She'd find out.
And when she did?
She wouldn't just watch Celeste fall.
She'd be the one to push.
Maureen's Bedroom
The moonlight spilled through her window, silver and sharp. Maureen sat cross-legged on her bed, the old notebook open in front of her. Pages rustled in the breeze from the ceiling fan. Celeste's teenage handwriting smiled back at her—swirly hearts, exclamation marks, doodles of flowers.
I hate school lunches lol
Leon looked at me today, I swear my heart stopped
Maureen you're the best best best friend ever
Maureen scoffed.
Best friend.
She stared at those words like they were written in poison.
She closed the book sharply, the sound echoing in her room. Her hands were shaking again. Not from fear—no. From something worse.
From doubt.
Celeste had been allergic to almond. Everyone knew that. One bite used to make her break out in hives. But at the welcome dinner last week, Maureen had slipped just a little bit of almond into her drink. Just a test. Just to see.
And Celeste had smiled—smiled—and finished the glass.
No itching. No coughing. Nothing.
She'd even said, "Mmm… this tastes familiar."
Maureen hadn't slept since.
At first she thought maybe it was a mistake. Maybe her memory of Celeste's allergy was wrong. But Maureen never forgot things like that. Not when it came to her.
Because Maureen had watched her for years. Hated her. Loved her. Knew her.
Knew everything about her.
And now… now she didn't.
She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and scrolled to Damien's number. He hadn't answered any of her messages in months, but she hit "Call" anyway.
One ring. Two. Three—
"Hello?"
His voice was rough. Half-asleep maybe. Or just annoyed.
"It's me," she said quickly. "Maureen."
Silence.
"I need to talk to you. It's about Celeste."
More silence. She could hear him breathing.
"What about her?"
"She's not who you think she is," Maureen whispered, voice sharp. "I don't think that's really Celeste."
There was a pause. Then a short laugh—cold and dry.
"You're joking."
"I'm not."
"Maureen, what are you even saying?"
"I know it sounds crazy, but I swear—she drank strawberry syrup. STRAWBERRY. And she was fine. Celeste was allergic! She would've collapsed, Damien!"
"You tried to poison her?"
"No! I—" Maureen paused, her voice catching. "It wasn't like that. I just… tested something. Something small."
Damien sighed heavily. "You've lost it. You always hated her, Maureen. Now she's back and what—you're jealous again?"
"I'm telling you the truth!"
"No, you're spiraling," he snapped. "And honestly? It's pathetic. Get help."
Then—click.
The line went dead.
Maureen stared at the screen. For a long time, she didn't move.
Finally, she whispered, "You'll see. All of you."
She threw her phone aside, stormed across her room, and yanked open her closet. Behind stacks of old papers and shoe boxes, she pulled out a binder. Inside it were photos, printed chats, screenshots—stuff she had saved from years ago. Pictures of Celeste, notes, school records.
Everything she could ever need to prove she knew the real Celeste.
If this girl wasn't her…
She'd find out.
And when she did?
She wouldn't just watch Celeste fall.
She'd be the one to push.