Chapter 49

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Hey guys! I'm back with one more chapter before next week, decided to give you all this one a bit early!

I hope you guys enjoy it, especially after the drama from last chapter!

Thank you so much for reading, commenting, and voting for my story, it means a lot!

Also, I'm proud to say this story officially has 50 parts! If you include the prologue, that is! Thank you guys...don't think I could've done this without you!

Enjoy <3

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Jennifer's POV -

As I read the words over and over again, my hands begin to quiver. I fling the note away from me like it's a burning hot object, singing to the touch.

As it flutters to the ground face-up, my eyes uncontrollably flit over the dark scribble again.

Be outside alone in three minutes, or Draco and your friend die.

I haven't quite fully processed it yet. Suddenly, I find myself very aware of every sound, every thing.

I can hear my own breaths, slow and trembling in my ears, and my heart pounding rapidly in my throat.

Who in the name of living hell slipped this note under the door? Or worse, what did?

Fear begins to course through my veins, so strong and vicious and demanding that it pushes my hands to my knees.

My lungs seem to be failing me, and my knuckles are white and clammy with sweat.

By now, one, even two minutes may have passed, and whoever it is that slipped the note through the crack underneath the door could already be on their way to Draco and Josefina.

I allow my eyes to flutter shut, and inhale three times, trying to reduce the queasy churning in my stomach.

Maybe this is all a joke. An elaborate prank that some asshole selected me to play on.

Yes, that's it. None of this is real.

But in my heart, I know that's not true.

Either way, I can't allow myself to take any chances. Two of the people that mean the most to me in this world are in potentially grave danger, and if something were to happen to either of them, I simply wouldn't be able to live with myself.

I know what I have to do.

Crumpling the note up in my hand and taking one final deep breath, I latch my moist hand onto the door handle.

It takes me just a few moments to gather up the courage to open it.

When I emerge into the corridor once again, the air is cool, and feels uneasily chilling against my sweat-covered skin.

Everything looks the same. The ripped painting, the shining marble floor. Not one particle of dust has shifted out of place. For a moment, I wonder if I've hallucinated the whole thing, but I feel the crumpled sheet of paper between my clenched fist, and know that I haven't.

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