The next day, we made our way directly to the school psychologist's office. Upon arrival, we were greeted by a young man who appeared to be around my age in the real world. Unlike the rest of the school staff, he exuded a sense of warmth and approachability.

"Hello, I'm Lin, and this is my friend," I began, introducing myself and my chatbot to the psychologist. "We're new students here, and we were hoping to speak with you about a matter concerning one of the students who attended this school previously."

The psychologist's eyes flickered with a hint of unease, but he maintained a composed demeanor. "I see," he replied cautiously. "May I ask why you're so interested in her story?"

I hesitate for a moment, considering my response. "We've heard some things about her," she said carefully, "and we want to understand her experience here at the school. We believe there may be more to her story than what's been told."

The psychologist nods, his expression somber. "I understand your curiosity," he said softly. "But this girl's situation is quite sensitive, and there are privacy concerns to consider."

I lean forward, try to look the earnest the possible. "We're not here to invade anyone's privacy," I assure him. "We just want to understand what happened to her."

The psychologist sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly with resignation. "Very well," he said, relenting. "What would you like to know?"

I lean back in my chair, feeling a sense of relief that the psychologist is willing to entertain our questions. "Thank you," I say sincerely, grateful for his cooperation. "We'd like to know more about that girl. What can you tell us about her time here at the school?"

The psychologist hesitates for a moment, his gaze shifting as if wrestling with his thoughts. "Well, her name is Sarah," he begins, choosing his words carefully. "She came from a difficult family background, with a history of domestic violence."

I nod, absorbing this information with a heavy heart. "Did she ever seek help here at the school?" I inquire, my voice tinged with concern.

The psychologist sighs, a shadow passing over his features. "Unfortunately, Sarah was not one to open up about her struggles," he admits. "She kept to herself mostly, and despite our efforts to reach out to her, she remained guarded."

I exchange a glance with my chatbot, a sense of frustration gnawing at me. "And what about the bullying she endured?" I press, my voice tinged with urgency. "Did the school do anything to address it?"

The psychologist's expression darkens, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. "I'm afraid the school's response to the bullying was inadequate," he admits regretfully. "We were aware of the situation, but... we failed to intervene effectively."

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

I feel a surge of anger and sadness wash over me, the injustice of Sarah's situation weighing heavily on my heart. "Thank you for being honest with us," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "We'll do everything we can to ensure that Sarah's story is heard."

"And Sarah... what was she like at school? Did she have friends?" I inquire, sensing the psychologist's struggle to recollect the details.

The psychologist falls into a contemplative silence, his brow furrowing as he delves into his memories. "Friends? No, I don't believe so," he finally responds, his voice tinged with sadness. "Sarah kept mostly to herself. She rarely spoke to others, often found alone, and only participated in group activities when assigned."

My heart sinks at the image of Sarah's solitary existence within the school walls. "Was she... bullied by her classmates?" I press gently, my concern evident in my voice.

The psychologist nods solemnly, his expression weighted with regret. "Yes, she was often ostracized by her classmates," he confirms. "She struggled to fit in, and the isolation only seemed to exacerbate her pain."

I feel a pang of empathy for Sarah, imagining the loneliness and despair she must have experienced. "And the bullying she endured," I continue, my voice steady despite the rising emotions within me. "Was it ever addressed by the school?"

The psychologist's gaze darkens, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. "I'm afraid our response to the bullying was inadequate," he confesses, his tone heavy with remorse. "We were aware of the situation, but... we failed to intervene effectively."

I nod, absorbing his words with a heavy heart. "What kind of bullying did she experience at school?" I inquire, my voice soft with concern.

"She often came to my office in tears, visibly shaken," the psychologist recounts, his voice tinged with sadness. "She mentioned instances where she felt isolated and mistreated by her peers. There was an incident where she claimed someone had locked her in the bathroom."

"So, she faced challenges at home, struggled to socialize with other students, and was subjected to bullying... all leading to her decision to..." I trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

"Yes," the psychologist confirms quietly, his gaze downcast.

As we depart from the psychologist's office, the weight of the girl's tragic story lingers in our thoughts. During the break, we encounter the male pupil who had jumped from the building the previous day. His sudden reappearance, seemingly unscathed, raises more questions than answers.

"So, that's why the teacher asked us to wait until today," I murmur to my chatbot, who nods in agreement.

Approaching the male pupil, I introduce myself, "Hello... Did you happen to remember anything from yesterday?" I inquire, hoping for some insight into the mysterious events.

Well, it was an ordinary day, like every day here," he replies casually. "Like every day here..." Suddenly, it dawns on me. "In fact, it's a loop. The supposed jumps every two days... the students who jump, they're reenacting what the girl experienced..."

"Have you kept the smartphone with you?" I inquire of my chatbot. "Yes," comes the reply. "Can you search what happened with the fire in this school?" My chatbot proceeds to search the web for information.

"Well, there was a fire that occurred after the death of the girl," my chatbot reports. "It had an unknown origin, and there was an unknown force present. There were no survivors from the fire, and the firefighters couldn't extinguish it. When the fire finally subsided, the school was left in ruins."