5:42 AM – Banks Apartment, South Ash District
Vincent hadn't really slept.
He'd spent most of the night pacing between his shoebox-sized bedroom and the roof, notebook in hand, Adriana's laughter playing on loop in his head like a song he wasn't allowed to play out loud.
When he came back inside, his mom was already up—tie half-done, mascara smudged, clutching a mug of sad instant coffee. The whole kitchen smelled like burnt toast and too many bad mornings.
"Vin," she said without turning, "you're gonna burn out if you keep this up."
"I'm fine."
She glanced over. "You look like death's unpaid intern."
He opened the fridge. Empty. Not even a sorry slice of ham.
"Crap," she muttered. "Didn't make it to the store."
"It's okay."
"No, it's not. You're still growing. You need to eat."
He almost smiled. Almost. "Pretty sure I stopped growing in tenth grade."
"Not your brain," she said, finally facing him. "And definitely not your heart."
He paused.
She noticed.
"You've been... different lately," she said softly. "When did you start staying after school?"
Vincent hesitated. The truth felt heavier than he could carry.
"…I'm tutoring someone."
Her eyebrow lifted. "Someone?"
"Yeah."
"Boy or girl?"
"Does it matter?"
"Only if I don't like them."
He snorted. "You won't."
She folded her arms. "Try me."
"They run a gang and basically own the school."
Silence.
His mom blinked. "…And you're still breathing?"
"For now."
"Then they must like you."
10:45 AM – St. Helena's Academy, Upper Hall
Adriana was late.
Weird.
Vincent leaned against the cold stone wall near the stairwell, doing his best not to look like he was waiting for anyone. But his eyes scanned the crowd below, searching for that walk—hers. Confident. Sharp. Unbothered.
She wasn't there.
"You've got a death wish, huh?" a voice said behind him.
He turned. Noel. Hoodie up, eyes narrowed, chewing on a pencil like it owed him money.
"What?"
"You're standing in her hallway." Noel nodded toward the stretch of lockers no one dared use. "She claimed this space junior year. No one's here unless they're bleeding… or invited."
Vincent looked down. "She told me to wait."
Noel blinked. "You got an invitation?"
Vincent didn't answer.
Low whistle. "Damn, Banks. Didn't realize you had a death waiver."
Then footsteps echoed.
Adriana.
Leather jacket over uniform. Messy braid. Phone in one hand. Blood on the other.
Vincent blinked.
Noel backed up. "That's my cue. Good luck, man."
Adriana stopped in front of him. Eyes unreadable. Knuckles split.
Vincent stared at her hand. "You okay?"
She looked at him like he'd just asked if the sky was blue. "It's not my blood."
"That's not what I asked."
A flicker of emotion passed behind her eyes.
She pocketed the phone and nodded toward the stairs. "Come with me."
11:02 AM – Boiler Room, Sub-Level 2
She took him deep underground—past the basement, past the janitor's office, down two sketchy stairwells, through a rusted door that probably wasn't supposed to open for anyone under thirty.
The boiler room was dim and warm, full of shadows and the smell of old metal and gasoline.
Adriana sat on an overturned crate. Vincent hovered awkwardly near a leaking pipe.
"Why here?" he asked.
"Because no one listens down here."
"To what?"
She looked up. "The things that matter."
He didn't respond. Just waited.
"I saw a guy get stabbed last night," she said finally. "Right outside my building."
Vincent tensed. "Are you—"
"I wasn't the one stabbed."
"That doesn't mean—"
"He deserved it," she cut in, voice flat. "Tried to touch one of my girls. I handled it."
His stomach twisted. "Did you… kill him?"
She stared ahead. "No. But I should've."
He sank down next to her. "Why tell me this?"
"Because when you look at me… you don't see something broken."
Silence.
Her words lingered in the air like smoke.
"I know what people say," she continued. "That I'm dangerous. Unstable. Untouchable. They're right."
Vincent swallowed. "You're not crazy."
She gave a hollow laugh.
"You're hurting."
That stopped her.
After a long pause, she reached into her jacket and handed him a folded piece of paper.
He opened it.
A list:
— Clean up the Pierce debt
— Keep Leo out of jail
— Move money through Fernandez by Friday
— Hide the gun from Alex
— Don't fall for the boy
He froze on the last line.
"You wrote this," he whispered.
She nodded.
"And you showed me."
Another nod.
"Why?"
She met his eyes.
"I think I already failed the last one."
Industrial District
"She's slipping."
Alex didn't look up. Just kept sorting cash and knives across his desk like it was just another Tuesday.
"She's seventeen," he said. "Slipping's normal."
Malik was pacing. Angry. "She took him down to the boiler room. The tutor. He saw the list."
Alex's jaw twitched.
"He's not one of us," Malik said. "He's soft. Too smart. Way too curious."
"Then we keep him close."
Malik blinked. "Come again?"
Alex looked up, sharp. "What—you want her to kill him?"
"No. But—"
"Because that's exactly what happens if we force her to choose."
Malik fell quiet.
Alex pulled open a drawer and took out an old photo. Adriana, younger. Smiling. Holding a sunflower in one hand… a switchblade in the other.
"She's her mother's daughter," he murmured. "But her heart? Still a liability."
He looked at the photo a moment longer.
"She'll learn what that costs soon enough."
Nightfall Rooftop
The city buzzed below. Vincent sat cross-legged, hoodie pulled over his head. Adriana stood beside him, braid swaying in the wind.
She hadn't said much. Just stared out at the skyline like it had answers.
"You never talk about your dad," she said finally.
Vincent winced. "He left."
"Mine's dead." Her voice was steady. "But his ghost still runs half of Little Ash."
He turned to her. "Do you miss him?"
She looked up at the moon. "No. I miss who I might've been if he hadn't raised me."
Silence.
Then she sat beside him. Close. Their shoulders touched.
"I want to burn it all down," she said softly. "The debt. The gangs. My name. Everything."
"Then do it."
She turned toward him.
"Because you can't destroy the kingdom when you're wearing the crown."
Adriana's mask is slipping. Vincent's already too deep. ...people are starting to notice.