Skylar's POV
"We have to go after him!"
I'm already at the door, but Riley yanks me back so hard I stumble.
"Are you crazy?" she hisses. "Damon said to stay here!"
"He's walking into a trap!" My voice cracks. "I'm not letting another person I care about die on that roof!"
Riley's eyes go wide. "Another person you care about? Skylar, you just met this guy three days ago!"
"I know!" The words explode out of me. "I know it's insane, okay? But he's the only person who believes me about James. He's the only one who's actually helping. And now he's going to get killed because of me!"
My hands are shaking. I can't breathe. This is exactly what happened with James—I wasn't there when he needed me, and he died alone.
Riley grabs my shoulders. "Listen to me. If we go running after Damon, we all die. Celeste is watching us right now, remember? We need to be smart."
"Smart?" I laugh, but it sounds more like a sob. "James was smart. Look where that got him."
"James didn't have us." Riley pulls out her laptop and opens it on Damon's kitchen table. "He was alone. We're not. Now sit down and let me work."
"Work on what?"
"On saving Damon's life." Her fingers fly across the keyboard. "That text he got at the end—the one warning him about the roof? I'm going to trace it."
I sink into the chair next to her. "Can you do that?"
"I can do anything with computers." Riley's eyes are locked on the screen. "The question is whether I can do it fast enough."
My phone buzzes. It's a text from an unknown number.
Still planning to save your boyfriend? Too late. He's already dead.
My heart stops. "Riley—"
"I see it. I got the same text." But Riley doesn't look up from her laptop. "It's a bluff. They're trying to make us panic and do something stupid."
"How do you know it's a bluff?"
"Because if Damon was already dead, they wouldn't bother texting us about it. They'd just kill us next." Riley's jaw tightens. "Whoever sent this wants us scared and off-balance."
Another text comes through. This time it's a photo.
My stomach drops.
It's Damon on the stairs of Whitmore Hall, climbing toward the roof. The photo was taken from behind him, like someone's following him.
See? He's almost there. Soon he'll be just like James. Splattered on the pavement.
"Oh God." I grab Riley's arm. "We have to call the police!"
"And tell them what?" Riley's voice is sharp. "That our friend is walking up some stairs? By the time they get there, it'll be too late."
"Then what do we do?"
Riley's fingers pause over the keyboard. For the first time since I've known her, she looks uncertain. Scared.
"I don't know," she whispers.
My best friend—the girl who always has a plan, who hacks into security systems for fun, who faces everything with sarcastic confidence—doesn't know what to do.
We're going to lose.
No. No, I didn't transfer to this horrible university and risk everything just to lose again.
I grab Riley's laptop and spin it toward me. "Show me how to trace that text. Right now."
"Skylar, it takes years to learn—"
"Then give me the short version!" I'm yelling now, but I don't care. "You said James was alone. He's not the only one anymore. Damon isn't alone. So show me how to help him!"
Riley stares at me. Then something shifts in her face—the fear disappears, replaced by the fierce determination I know so well.
"Okay." She cracks her knuckles. "Okay. Here's what we do."
For the next ten minutes, Riley teaches me the basics of tracing a phone signal. It's complicated and confusing, but I force myself to focus. Every second that passes is another second Damon is in danger.
"Got it!" Riley suddenly shouts. "The text came from inside Whitmore Hall. Third floor."
"But Damon's going to the roof. The seventh floor."
"Exactly." Riley's eyes are bright with understanding. "Whoever sent that text isn't on the roof waiting for him. They're three floors below, probably watching on security cameras."
"So the roof is safe?"
"Maybe. Or maybe there's someone else up there." Riley pulls up another screen. "I'm hacking into the building's security system. If I can access the cameras—"
The laptop screen suddenly goes black.
"No, no, no!" Riley frantically types commands. "Someone just locked me out. They killed the whole system."
"Who would do that?"
"Someone who doesn't want us seeing what's on those cameras." Riley slams the laptop shut. "Someone with serious tech skills and administrator access. This isn't just Celeste, Skylar. She's got help. Professional help."
My phone buzzes again.
You girls are smarter than I thought. But not smart enough. Check your email.
I open my email with shaking hands.
There's a video file attached.
"Don't open it," Riley warns. "It could be a virus—"
But I'm already pressing play.
The video is dark and grainy, clearly from a security camera. It shows James's dorm hallway from six months ago. The timestamp reads 2:35 AM—twelve minutes before James died.
Celeste walks into frame, carrying two coffee cups. She knocks on James's door. He opens it, looking confused. They talk for a moment, then James takes one of the coffee cups and drinks from it.
Within seconds, he starts stumbling. Celeste catches him and helps him toward the stairwell.
The video cuts off.
"That's it," I breathe. "That's proof she drugged him."
"The police said all the security footage from that night was erased," Riley says slowly. "So who has this? And why are they sending it to us now?"
Another text comes through:
Impressive, isn't it? I have all the evidence. Everything you've been searching for. Meet me on the roof in ten minutes and I'll give it to you. Both of you. Come alone or I delete everything and Damon dies anyway. You have ten minutes to decide.
Riley and I stare at each other.
"It's a trap," she says.
"I know."
"We'll probably die if we go."
"I know that too."
Riley closes her laptop and stands up. "Well, I didn't transfer to this horrible university just to sit around while my best friend gets killed. Let's go."
We run for the door.
My phone buzzes one last time as we race down the hallway.
P.S. - You should know the truth about who Damon really is. He's not the hero you think he is. He's the reason James is dead.
I stop running so fast I almost fall.
"What?" Riley grabs my arm. "What's wrong?"
I show her the text.
"It's a lie," Riley says immediately. "They're trying to turn us against Damon."
"But what if it's not?" My voice comes out small and terrified. "What if we've been wrong about everything?"
"Skylar—"
"James told me about a fight he had with Damon the day before he died. He wouldn't tell me what it was about. What if—"
"Stop." Riley shakes me hard. "You're spiraling. That's exactly what they want. We need to focus."
She's right. But doubt has planted itself in my mind like poison.
What if Damon isn't who I think he is?
What if I'm about to walk into a trap to save someone who's actually the enemy?
We burst through the door to Whitmore Hall and race for the stairs.
Above us, somewhere in this building, answers are waiting.
And maybe death.