The chemistry lab reeked of ethanol and charred wires. Glass beakers shimmered in the low emergency lights, casting jagged shadows across the linoleum floor.
Lena was lying on the cold tiles, her long braid splayed beside her like a cut rope.
The blood-red dare card was taped neatly to her chest.
Ezra stood just inside the door, every muscle in his body coiled. Beside him, Kai crouched to check Lena's pulse.
"She's breathing," Kai said, relief flickering across his face. "She's alive."
Ezra moved in slow, controlled steps toward the desk where the note had been taped. He peeled it off, eyes scanning the typed message:
"DARE: LIE TO HIS FACE. THEN WATCH HIM BREAK.
You have 24 hours. Fail, and she bleeds next.**"
Kai looked up. "What does it say?"
Ezra crumpled the paper before Kai could read it. "Nothing useful."
Kai frowned. "Ezra."
"I said it's nothing." His voice was quiet. Final.
Kai didn't push it, but the air between them stiffened.
They waited with Lena in the nurse's office while she came to. The nurse, who had no clue what had really happened, called it "stress-induced fainting," pumped her full of fluids, and assured her everything would be fine.
Ezra sat silently by the window, eyes fixed outside, watching the winter wind rattle dying leaves against the glass.
When Lena stirred, her voice was weak but steady.
"I didn't see who did it," she whispered. "They came from behind. Smelled like gasoline. Said… something about the rules changing."
Ezra turned sharply. "What rules?"
Lena hesitated. "They said this isn't about dares anymore. It's about debt."
Kai leaned in. "Debt?"
Lena nodded. "They said—'We all owe something. Ezra owes the most.' Then I blacked out."
Ezra didn't react outwardly, but his hands curled into fists where Lena couldn't see.
They walked Lena back to her dorm after dark. The campus was quiet, too quiet, every rustle of wind or snap of twig magnified.
When they reached the main path, Lena paused.
"I remember something else," she said, turning toward them. "A whisper. The person—whoever they were—they said your name."
Kai stiffened. "Mine?"
Lena nodded. "Just once. But like… like they were testing it. Kai Renner. Like it tasted strange in their mouth."
Kai exchanged a look with Ezra, his throat dry.
Ezra's eyes narrowed. "They're not just after me. They're building a web."
Later that night, Ezra returned to his dorm alone.
He showered, dressed in silence, then pulled out the old lockbox from under his bed. It was ironclad, fingerprint-locked, and covered in dust.
Inside: a stack of letters, a broken lighter, and a photograph.
In the photo, a much younger Ezra stood with another boy—same sharp cheekbones, same cold eyes. But the other boy was smiling.
Kai's face wasn't in the photo.
This was someone else.
The boy who died.
The boy Ezra couldn't save.
Ezra stared at the photo until his vision blurred. Then, carefully, he lit the broken lighter.
Just once.
Flame flared, bright and dangerous.
Just enough to remind himself what pain felt like.
Meanwhile, across campus, Kai was in the gym, fists pounding into the sandbag with brutal rhythm.
He'd trained like this before. Back when things still made sense. Back when his mother's rehab visits were predictable, back when being a golden boy still felt like armor instead of a lie.
But now?
Now Ezra wouldn't even look him in the eye.
And someone knew his name.
"Kai Renner," he muttered between strikes. "What do you want with me?"
Behind him, someone clapped slowly.
Kai spun around, fists up.
Dominic.
"You're not the only one losing sleep," Dominic said, stepping out of the shadows.
Kai relaxed slightly but didn't lower his guard. "What do you want?"
"I came to make peace," Dominic said. "Ezra's got you wrapped in his storm. You're smarter than that."
Kai bristled. "What storm?"
Dominic stepped closer. "He'll use you. Just like he used me."
Kai hesitated. "Ezra didn't frame you for that photo."
"No," Dominic agreed. "But he didn't stop it either. He knew what was coming. He let me burn."
The silence between them sharpened.
Then Dominic leaned in, voice low. "Ask him about Theo. Ask him who really died that night."
Kai froze.
Dominic left him there, alone, the truth coiled like a snake around his spine.
Back in Ezra's room, his phone buzzed again.
Another message.
UNKNOWN SENDER
"Tell him the truth, or I will.
You have 24 hours. Tick, tick."
Ezra's fingers trembled.
He looked at the photo one last time—Theo's smile frozen forever in a past that wouldn't stay buried.
He thought he could run from it.
He thought wrong.