Sander's POV
I found Yasmin in the courtyard, her eyes tracing some invisible pattern in the brickwork. She looked smaller than I remembered, fragile in a way that made my chest tighten.
I stepped forward, letting my voice slice through the hum of the students around us.
"Yasmin," I said, careful, low. "We need to talk. About Aleah."
Her head jerked up, startled. "S-Sander?" Her voice was tentative, fragile.
"I know what she's been doing," I said. "The way she's… manipulating you. The way she's making you doubt yourself, twisting your reality. You're not imagining it."
She blinked, like she wanted to believe me but was too scared to fully accept it. "But… why would she—?"
I let the pause hang. "Because she's hurting. Because I made a mistake. Because she's lost, and she's taking everyone with her. But you… you don't deserve this. I'm not letting her take you."
Yasmin's lips trembled, and for a moment I thought she might cry. I wanted to reach out, but I kept my hands in my pockets, steadying myself.
Later that day, I sought Ivy. I found her leaning against the lockers, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
"Ivy," I said, cutting straight to it. "You need to protect Yasmin. Aleah's… she's out of control. I need your help."
Her eyes met mine for a fraction of a second, flat, almost bored. "Why? So you can be her hero? I'm not responsible for Aleah—or anyone else's chaos."
Something inside me tightened. I stepped closer, voice low but edged with frustration. "You don't care. You never did. Every smile, every casual shrug, every warning you ignored—it was all performance. You said you wanted to help her. You didn't. Why lie?"
Ivy smirked, almost amused. "Lie? I didn't lie. I just… didn't care enough to step in. You want to play savior? Fine. That's your game, not mine."
Her words struck like a blade. She never cared. She never had. And now it was clear—no one else was going to save Aleah. Not Yasmin, not Ivy, not Sage.
Aleah needed someone who could see through the masks, the lies, the cracks she hid even from herself.
And that someone… was me.
I replayed everything I'd observed, every subtle manipulation, every careful control she wielded like a weapon. I cataloged all the small details Ivy never noticed, every flicker she never saw.
The plan began to take shape, slow and deliberate. I wouldn't just save Yasmin. I'd save Aleah too. I'd reach the part of her that still cared, that still wanted connection—the part she buried under the steel and fire.
But stepping into those shadows meant danger. Shadows had a way of swallowing those who entered, and Aleah's were deep, unpredictable.
I clenched my fists. I was ready.
Almost.
Because standing at the edge of that darkness, I realized… I had no idea if I would come back.