Vanessa's POV
The word haunted me.
"Soon."
What did it mean? A warning? A threat? A promise?
Each time I read it, my chest tightened like someone had tied an invisible string around my ribs and kept pulling. I wanted to believe the notes were helping me, guiding me toward the truth. But now, it felt different.
Whoever they were, they were watching me. Closer than I'd thought.
And that scared me.
At school, I kept a tighter circle. No lingering in the hallway. No walking alone. I kept my locker shut, my bag zipped. I even changed my route home.
Paranoia or caution? I didn't care.
Alexis noticed.
"You've been quiet," he said during lunch.
"I'm tired."
He narrowed his eyes. "Did something else happen?"
I nodded, pulling the "Soon" note from my pocket and sliding it to him under the table.
He read it, frowning. "Okay, this is different."
"That's what I thought."
He folded the paper and looked around. "You think someone's threatening you?"
"I don't know what they want. But I don't like being toyed with."
Alexis was quiet for a moment, then said, "Maybe we should try to find out who it is."
I raised an eyebrow. "Like a detective team?"
He gave a soft chuckle. "Something like that. I mean, you're the one being targeted. And I don't want anything to happen to you."
His words warmed something in my chest. But before I could respond, someone walked by and brushed too close.
It was Rose.
She didn't look at us, but her hand deliberately knocked my water bottle off the table.
"Oops," she muttered.
Alexis stared after her. "She's doing this on purpose now."
"She wants a reaction."
"Then let's give her silence."
He was right. Giving her power meant losing mine.
Still, as I bent to pick up the bottle, I saw a folded piece of paper tucked under the table leg.
Another note.
No one else seemed to notice.
I slipped it into my bag, trying not to tremble.
In the restroom, I opened it.
"If you really want answers, go to the library. Top floor. Restricted archives. After school. Come alone."
For a moment, I stood frozen. The air felt thick, pressing against my skin. This was it. The face behind the words wanted to meet.
I could've told Alexis. Part of me wanted to.
But deep down, I knew—whatever this was, I had to face it. Alone.
After school, I pretended to head home.
Waited until the halls were empty.
Then I turned and headed for the library.
I climbed the stairs slowly. Second floor. Third floor. Finally, the top level—the one students weren't supposed to access.
A dusty "STAFF ONLY" sign hung loosely on a rusted nail. The door creaked when I pushed it open.
The air was cold and smelled of old paper and secrets.
Rows of forgotten books, cardboard boxes, and metal cabinets stretched in every direction.
"Hello?" I whispered.
No answer.
I took a step inside.
And that's when I heard it.
A click.
I spun around.
Rose stood by the door, arms folded, a satisfied smirk on her face.
"So you finally took the bait."
I stared at her, stunned. "You?"
"Surprised?" she said, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. "You're not as clever as you pretend to be."
"You wrote the notes?"
She gave a twisted smile. "Most of them."
Most.
My knees nearly gave out. "Why?"
"Because you needed to see the real Alexis."
I clenched my fists. "And what would that be?"
"Manipulative. Fake. A master at playing the victim."
"That's not true—"
"Oh, isn't it?" Her voice turned sharp. "He lied to you. You said it yourself. He left out pieces. He let me take the fall for things I never did."
I blinked. "What are you talking about?"
Rose's face changed—just for a second. The anger cracked, revealing something deeper. Sadness. Regret.
"You think he's innocent? He did push me, Vanessa. It wasn't an accident. And he never apologized. Not once."
My breath caught.
"You're lying."
She took a step closer. "He told you I fell, right? But what he didn't say was why. We were arguing—yes. But he was angry. Scary. When he turned back, I flinched. He saw that. He knew what he did. And he still told everyone it was my fault."
"You never said anything," I whispered.
"No one would've believed me. He was the golden boy. Grieving his mom. And I... I just disappeared."
The room felt smaller now. My lungs, tighter.
Was she telling the truth?
Could Alexis be hiding something that dark?
"I warned you," she said. "I gave you chances to stay away."
"You made me question everything," I snapped. "You threatened me."
"I warned you," she repeated. "There's a difference."
I turned toward the door. I couldn't listen anymore. Not right now.
"Think about it, Vanessa," Rose called as I opened the door. "You say you trust him—but do you really know him?"
I didn't remember walking home. My head was spinning too hard.
When I got to my room, I opened my diary and stared at the pages.
The truth felt like shattered glass. Sharp. Impossible to hold without bleeding.
Was Rose telling the truth? Was Alexis?
What scared me most was the possibility that both were.
The next day, I didn't talk to anyone. Not even Alexis.
I just watched.
Watched how he smiled. Watched how he avoided eye contact when someone mentioned his mom. Watched how his hands shook slightly when Rose walked past.
He wasn't acting guilty.
But neither was she lying.
I was caught between two truths—and I didn't know where to stand.
That night, there was a knock at my window.
Alexis.
I opened it, startled. "What are you doing here?"
"I need to tell you something."
"Now?"
"Yes. Before someone else tells it the wrong way."
I hesitated, then stepped aside.
He climbed in quietly, standing in the moonlit center of my room like a ghost confessing sins.
"I wasn't lying about what happened to Rose," he said. "But I wasn't honest, either."
My throat tightened.
"She didn't just fall. I pushed her. Not on purpose. I was angry. I turned fast, and my arm hit hers. She tripped."
I swallowed hard.
"I didn't think it was that bad at first. But when she got hurt... I panicked. I didn't say it was my fault. I let people assume. And I hated myself for it."
"Why didn't you tell me?" I whispered.
"Because I didn't want you to see me as a monster."
"I don't," I said. "I see you as human."
He looked up, eyes glassy. "I'm sorry, Vanessa."
I nodded.
We sat in silence for a long time.
And somehow, that silence felt safe.
Dear Diary,
The truth isn't perfect. It's not clean. It's ugly, sometimes. But it's real.
Alexis hurt someone. Rose tried to warn me. And I... I'm stuck in the middle.
But maybe the truth is not about choosing sides. Maybe it's about learning what people carry—and deciding what you can forgive.