Pov (Maya) :
Maya decided two things very quickly.
First: she was definitely not screaming.
Second: if she did scream, Sam would never let her forget it like ever.
So she stayed quiet.
The glowing model of Marrow sat in the center of the room, humming faintly, like it was pleased with itself. Tiny streetlights flickered on and off. A miniature river shimmered, flowing in a loop that made no geographical sense whatsoever.
No one moved.
"Well," Sam said finally, voice echoing a little too much, "on the bright side, this is the coolest illegal science project I've ever seen."
Jordan shot him a look. "That is not comforting dude."
Maya watched the model closely. The longer she looked, the more details appeared—scratches on sidewalks, dents in rooftops, even tiny figures frozen mid-step. It wasn't perfect.
She leaned closer.
One of the figures looked like her.
She stepped back so fast she bumped into Lena.
"Sorry," Maya muttered.
Lena whispered, "Did it blink?"
Maya considered lying. "No," she said. "Probably."
Alex cleared his throat, the sound brittle. "We should document this. Photos. Videos."
Sam raised his phone.
The screen filled with static.
"Oh you gotta be shitting me " Sam groaned. "I just paid this thing off last week."
Riley tried his. Same result.
Jordan frowned. "Electromagnetic interference. Or—"
"—magic," Sam finished. "Yes. We know."
The voice didn't return.
Instead, the model shifted.
A tiny version of the service road appeared, weeds and all.
Maya felt the pull again—gentle, insistent, like someone tugging on her sleeve.
She knew which part of the model would respond if she reached out.
She did it anyway.
Her finger brushed the roof of the miniature school.
The room *exhaled*.
Lights dimmed, then steadied. The hum softened, almost content.
Alex turned sharply. "Maya—"
"I'm okay," she said quickly. "I think it likes when we… acknowledge it."
Sam stared at her. "You say that like it's a stray cat."
"It kind of is," she replied. "Just. You know. A reality-bending one."
Jordan rubbed his face. "I hate that I don't have a counterargument."
They backed out of the model room slowly, the doorway narrowing behind them like the building was reluctant to let them go.
The hallway beyond looked normal again. Fewer doors. Less hum.
"Progress right?" Lena offered, trying to lighten the mood.
Alex nodded, though he didn't look convinced. "We leave. Now."
This time, no one argued.
They retraced their steps, counting turns, noting landmarks—Jordan insisted on narrating like it would help anchor things.
"Second left. Original classroom. Chalkboard trauma."
Maya glanced inside as they passed.
The message was gone.
In its place, written neatly in chalk:
**SOON **
She said nothing.
The front doors came into view, sunlight spilling through the glass like a promise.
Sam practically sprinted the last few steps.
They spilled back onto the service road, blinking, breathing hard, laughing just a little too loudly.
The building loomed behind them.
Still there.
Still watching.
Sam bent over, hands on his knees. "Okay. Group vote, Never doing that again."
Riley snorted. "You're already lying."
"Yeah," Sam admitted. "But it's a comfort lie."
They mounted their bikes in near silence this time.
As they rode away, Maya looked back once.
The building hadn't moved.
But one of the upper windows reflected the sky differently—warmer, like late afternoon.
Like it was already missing them.
---
They regrouped at their usual spot near the river, sitting in the grass, bikes tossed aside.
No one mentioned the building at first.
Lena broke the silence by handing Maya a soda. "You didn't scream."
Maya took it. "I wanted to."
"That's a growth."
Sam flopped onto his back. "I think the weirdest part is that it didn't feel hostile at all."
Jordan nodded reluctantly. "Agreed. If anything, it seemed… reactive."
Riley stared at the water. "Like it wanted to be seen."
Alex looked at Maya. "You felt that too."
It wasn't a question.
She hesitated, then nodded. "It's not showing us random things. It's choosing."
"Choosing what?" Lena asked.
Maya opened her sketchbook.
She hadn't remembered drawing.
But there it was.
A hallway. A door. A small figure standing just out of reach.
The building, drawn not as it was—but as it wanted to be.
"I think," Maya said slowly, "it remembers things the town forgot."
Sam squinted at the page. "That's… poetic. And frankly upsetting."
Jordan leaned closer. "Did you draw this inside?"
"I think so."
Alex exhaled. "Okay. New rule."
Sam perked up. "We love rules."
"No touching things without telling the group."
Maya smiled faintly. "Fair."
Lena bumped her shoulder. "You okay?"
Maya watched the river flow endlessly forward, never looping, never remembering.
"I think," she said, "this is the kind of place that starts small."
Sam groaned. "Why does everyone keep saying ominous stuff like that?"
She closed her sketchbook.
Because the building had already noticed something about her.
And she had the uncomfortable feeling she knew what it was going to ask for first.
---