***Vanessa's POV***
If someone had asked me two months ago what is the worst part of my life was, I'd have said home.
Without hesitation.
But now?
Now I wasn't so sure.
Because what's worse than being afraid at home… is realizing you might not be safe anywhere.
Not even with the people you trust.
Mayra and I have become friends,for her I am not invisible.
The morning after our talk in the library, I found a note inside my locker.
It was taped to the back wall, folded with clean, sharp creases, and tucked just enough that I might not have seen it—if I weren't already looking for danger.
No name. No handwriting I recognized.
"You didn't listen. Now you pay the price. Ask him about the fire."
My hands went cold.
The fire?
I stared at the words, heart thudding so loud I could barely hear the chatter of the hallway. I looked around, half expecting to see someone watching me from the crowd.
But no one did.
Everyone looked normal. Casual.
And that terrified me even more.
I skipped breakfast. Didn't feel like talking.
Didn't even text Alexis.
In class, I couldn't concentrate. Mr. Aiden's voice was just a blur. The board might as well have been blank.
Ask him about the fire.
What fire?
I ran through every story I'd heard about his past. About his mom. About the rumors.
Something about a car accident. A house burning down. Rose's name had floated near those stories, too.
But no one ever said it clearly.
No one ever told the truth.
And Alexis never offered.
During lunch, I stayed in the music room. Alone.
Well, mostly.
Five minutes after the bell, the door opened and I didn't have to look to know who it was.
"Vanessa," Alexis said, walking in carefully like he was afraid I'd shatter if he stepped too hard.
I sat at the piano, fingers resting on the chipped keys, not playing.
"You weren't in the cafeteria," he added.
"I wasn't hungry."
He waited. Silent. Patient.
Then I spoke.
"Someone left me another note."
He stiffened. "What did it say?"
I turned to look at him, forcing myself to meet his eyes.
"It said to ask you about the fire."
His breath caught. Just for a moment I saw it.
"You know what it means, don't you?"
He looked away, jaw tight. "It's not what you think."
I stood. "Then tell me what it is, Alexis. Because I'm tired of being the only one who tells the truth."
Silence.
"Say something," I said, more sharply than I meant to.
Finally, he nodded, slowly.
"My father," he said, voice low, "burned our house down with my mother inside."
The words hit like a punch.
"I was there. I was supposed to be asleep, but I wasn't. I saw the flames from my bedroom window."
He sat down on the piano bench, elbows on his knees.
"I ran out. I screamed. I tried to get help. But by the time the neighbors came… it was too late. She was gone."
I stared at him, not breathing.
"And your dad?" I asked.
"Arrested. Still in prison. But there are people who think… I could've stopped it. That I should've done something more. Rose was one of them."
"And do you think that?" I asked, almost a whisper.
He didn't answer. Which said everything.
Later, after school, I walked home under gray clouds that threatened rain.
It felt fitting.
My house stood quiet when I arrived. No shouting. No broken plates. Just the soft hum of the TV in the living room and the smell of instant noodles from the kitchen.
Alex,my older brother—nodded at me from the couch but said nothing.
I went upstairs, feeling like I was walking through fog.
In my room, I sat on the floor beside my bed and pulled out my diary.
I didn't write anything.
I just held it, fingers pressed against the cover, trying to figure out if any of this meant something real—something I could hold onto.
Alexis hadn't lied about the fire. That much I believed. But he'd kept it from me. Hidden it like it might disappear if he didn't speak of it.
And Rose… what did she know? What else was she capable of?
She hated me. That much was obvious.
But was hate enough to scare me like this?
Or was someone else involved?
That night, just before midnight, I heard footsteps outside my door.
I stayed still.
The footsteps paused, right at the edge of the doorframe.
Then something slipped under the door.
A piece of paper.
I waited until the footsteps faded, then scrambled out of bed and picked it up.
Same folded style. Same clean creases.
"You're not the only one he's lied to. I'll prove it. Meet me behind the gym tomorrow at 4 p.m. Come alone."
No name.
But I didn't need one.
I already knew who it was.
Rose.
The next day crawled by.
I didn't tell Alexis. Didn't tell anyone.
Just counted the minutes until 4 p.m.
When the final bell rang, I grabbed my bag and headed straight to the back of the gym, nerves in knots.
She was already there.
Standing in the shade of the brick wall, arms crossed, her red hair pulled into a high ponytail like a weapon.
"Took you long enough," she said.
"I'm here," I replied. "What do you want?"
"To tell you the truth," she said, stepping closer. "The part Alexis didn't."
I didn't move. "Go on."
She smiled, but there was no warmth in it.
"There was a girl. Before me. Someone he used to talk to every day. Just like you. She found out something,something about the fire. Something about his dad."
"What?"
"She said Alexis knew it would happen. That he heard his father making threats for weeks. But he didn't warn anyone. He kept quiet."
"Why would he do that?"
"Because he hated her," Rose said. "He blamed her for everything. Said she broke the family. And maybe she did. But he let her burn, Vanessa."
My heart thudded.
"You're lying."
She laughed. "Am I? Why do you think he never tells the full story? Why do you think he clings to you? You're his second chance. His clean slate. But how long until you get burned, too?"
I swallowed hard. "If this is some game to scare me—"
"It's not," she said. "I'm just warning you. Before you end up another name in his diary of regrets."
Then she turned and walked away, leaving me standing there—full of doubt, fear, and a new kind of silence.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
The shadows on my wall looked like flames.
And every creak of the floorboards sounded like the start of something falling apart.