Upon returning to the dimly lit basement, Maya found Keith already waiting. They had barricaded the window, which had plunged the space into near darkness.

"Where the hell were you?" Keith was restless.

"The Headmistress summoned me to her office," Maya replied with a heavy voice. She already had a hard enough time.

Keith's eyes widened. "I received a summon, as well."

A sudden sense of dread washed over Maya. Could Keith have inadvertently revealed something to Amanda? "What did you tell her?!" she demanded, fearing their stories would not align.

"I haven't said a word. I didn't go. I'm not a fool." Keith flapped his arms defensively. "But I believe it's time we told her the truth. This has gone on long enough," Keith asserted.

"No. Keith, you can't," Maya pleaded.

Keith, with tears welling in his eyes, insisted, "Maya, we can't continue like this. We've been freezing our asses down here for days. It's time to accept it. Hell, if it weren't this cold, she would already start decomposing. We need to let her go."

His words stung, but Maya knew they were true. She had allowed this painful situation to persist for three long days.

"We need to report this," Keith continued, his voice heavy with dread. "I don't want to be expelled over this."

"We'll be expelled anyway if we confess," Maya responded, her voice barely a whisper.

"Well, you might. I'm not taking the blame," Keith retorted.

Keith's words felt like a sudden slap. Was he going to betray her after everything they've been through? But it only seemed fair. From the beginning, he insisted against Maya's senseless idea. Not only was it dangerous, but it was morally wrong to keep a corpse or a potential hatchling vampire.

If Keith wanted to save himself, he had every right to. There was no need for them both to suffer the consequences.

Maya moved closer to Elena's body, gently stroking her hair. Despite the passage of time, Elena looked just as she had on that dreadful day—her pale ashen skin, her eternally shut eyes, stains of old blood and the horrifying wound on her neck. But she was still somehow beautiful, like a broken porcelain doll.

"Did you move her?" Maya asked abruptly. She had been observing Elena's lifeless body for days and noticed an inexplicable change.

"I haven't laid a finger on her. She's a corpse!" Keith defended starkly.

Maya cautiously touched the nape of Elena's neck. The awkward contortion of her neck was no longer evident. It appeared… normal. Maya couldn't feel where her spine was jagging from the fracture.

"Her neck… It's not broken anymore. She's healed!" Maya announced, a spark of hope igniting in her voice.

She turned to Keith, her eyes gleaming with cautious excitement. Keith's eyebrows shot up in surprise, a glimmer of hope mirrored in his own expression. They weren't merely watching a body slowly decay. Elena was healing. Maya felt a surge of elation, quickly tempered by the reality of their situation. It was unwise to celebrate prematurely.

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"But how can we know if she's turned into a vampire?" Maya asked.

"I don't know. Check for fangs, maybe?" Keith suggested.

Maya shifted her attention back to Elena. After a brief pause, she cautiously lifted Elena's upper lip. Her gums were an unsettling shade of pale grey, but there was no other noticeable change. No sign of fangs. A smile broke across Maya's face. Could it be possible?

"She's still human."

"Are you absolutely sure?" Keith was still questioning it. "Do you even know what they are supposed to look like?"

"The vampire that killed her had very noticeable fangs," Maya replied, shuddering at the memory of his sinister aura. She desperately needed this to be true. She didn't know what to do if it wasn't.

While keeping her palm on Elena's neck, Maya felt a faint twitch, akin to a heartbeat. She dismissed it as a figment of her imagination at first; after all, Elena's skin was as cold as ice. But kept her hand there, hoping to feel it again.

However, there was nothing. Elena was still an unmoving pale corpse, beautiful as a goth Snow White for whom time had stopped.

As they sat in anticipation, the lack of further development began to crush their hopes again. They agreed that unless there was a change by the following day, they would need to devise a new plan.

Lulled by the quiet, Maya was on the brink of sleep when a strange sound pricked at her senses. It was muffled and distorted, reminiscent of a gust trying to navigate a blocked path.

She glanced at Keith to check if he was hearing it, but he was asleep. Following the sound, she discovered it came from Elena's direction.

It was her. Astoundingly, Elena was attempting to breathe.

Maya immediately roused Keith.

"Keith, she's breathing!" she exclaimed and rushed to her friend's body. "Elena, it's me!"

Overcome with a rush of adrenaline, they tried to communicate with Elena, their voices echoing in the cold, silent room. But Elena remained unresponsive.

Eventually, their excitement settled into a familiar quiet, a tense silence punctuated by Elena's small, strenuous breaths.

Her breathing continued unnaturally, each breath sounding more strained and painful, like a raspy whisper against the silence. It persisted for hours, a haunting irregular symphony that filled the room.

Maya's mind whirled with possibilities. Was there an obstruction in Elena's throat? Had her healing process been flawed? Could a fragment of her spine be lodged, choking her?

As time passed, Maya began to question the morality of their actions. The sound of Elena's breathing seemed torturous. Each inhale was a quiet but gruesome echo, like taking your last breath over and over again, only in reverse.

Keith hesitantly suggested ending her suffering, but Maya was torn, uncertain about the right course of action.

As dawn approached, Elena's breathing, which had developed a rhythmic, almost periodic cadence, suddenly shifted. Until now, her breaths were small and passive, as if attempting to breathe in, reaching resistance and stopping, then trying again. Now, she began gasping for air, sounding desperate and laboured. Like a drowned person reaching the surface, each breath seemed to struggle to re-inflate Elena's dormant lungs.

This sudden shift sent a jolt of alarm through them. Despite the instinctive urge to offer aid, they could only watch, paralyzed. If it were similar to a butterfly struggling to break free from its cocoon, any assistance from them could be detrimental. Fear tethered them to their spots.

Keith held onto a wooden stake, which he had been fashioning over the past few days. His grip tightened, causing his knuckles to turn as white as the pallor of Elena's skin. The tension hung thick in the room. He dreaded the thought of having to use the weapon. It seemed he, too, was unwilling to let go of Elena just yet.

Despite her apparent struggle, they attempted to reach out to her, but her response was a series of choking noises. Her jaw moved, forming wordless whispers.

"She can hear us. She's trying to say something," Keith's voice puncturing the heavy silence. He jumped in, closer. "I'm here, babe."

He leaned in, positioning his ear close to Elena's mouth to catch her feeble whispers.

"Keith," Maya's voice was laced with worry. A sense of impending doom swelled within her. She didn't think Keith's action, no matter how hopeful, was a smart idea.

Then, Elena's body convulsed, suddenly jerking upright in a possession-like manner.

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