The house was quiet, the air thick with the scent of the home-cooked meal Ethan had barely touched. Kia stood by the kitchen table, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes bright with a mixture of maternal fury and heartbreak. She had watched her son- once the bold, hot-tempered star of the football field, turn into a hollowed-out version of a person.
"You're a ghost, Ethan," Kia said, her voice trembling but firm. "You're missing school. Your grades are in the gutter. You look like you're vibrating out of your own skin. I know you love that girl, and God knows I do too, but you are killing yourself."
Ethan stood by the sink, his jaw tight. Any other person- Kyson, a coach, a teacher, would have faced a verbal explosion. But this was his mother, the only woman besides Annie who held his heart. He didn't raise his voice, he just looked at the floor, his shoulders hunched under the weight of his secrets.
"I'm close, Mom," he muttered, his voice raspy. "I'm so close to fixing it."
"You're fixing nothing if you collapse," she countered, pointing toward the stairs. "Shower. Eat the sandwich I made you. And you are going to sleep in a bed, not in your truck in a hospital parking lot. That's not a request, Ethan. It's a command."
He didn't fight her. He didn't have the energy left. He followed her orders like a soldier, the hot water of the shower finally washing away the grime of the corner store and the forensic lab. He pulled on a pair of grey sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair still damp, feeling a strange, heavy exhaustion settling into his bones.
He was halfway across his room when a heavy, rhythmic knocking echoed from the front door.
"Ethan!" Kia called out from the bottom of the stairs. Her voice sounded startled, cautious.
"There's... someone here for you."
Ethan's internal alarm went off. He moved down the stairs, his bare feet silent on the wood. He expected a process server, or maybe Dylan finally calling the cops on him for breaking the ban.
He didn't expect to see Kyson Combs standing in his foyer.
Kyson looked like he'd been through a war. His blonde hair was a mess, his eyes were bloodshot, and he lacked every ounce of the arrogance he usually carried like a shield. When he saw Ethan, he didn't sneer. He didn't put his fists up. He looked down at the rug, his chest heaving.
"What are you doing here, Kyson?" Ethan asked, his voice low and dangerous. "You're about five seconds away from being thrown through that door."
"I know," Kyson whispered. He looked up, and for the first time in ten years, Ethan saw the boy he used to be friends with- the one before the poison took over. "I deserve it. I deserve worse. But I need you to listen."
Kia looked between the two boys, sensed the shift in the air, and quietly retreated to the kitchen, though Ethan knew she was listening from the doorway.
"I went to find Vanessa and Peggy tonight," Kyson said, his voice shaking. "I saw the marks on Annie's arm in the hospital. I saw the security footage. I cornered them in the park. I told them if they didn't talk, I'd tell the police they were the ones driving the SUV."
Ethan stepped off the last stair, his green eyes narrowing. "And?"
"They cracked," Kyson said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. His hands were trembling so violently he almost dropped it. "Vanessa was the handler. She was getting paid. But it wasn't just about bullying her, Ethan. They confessed. They were the ones at the bridge four years ago. They were paid to murder her."
Ethan felt the world tilt. He'd suspected it, he'd whispered it to the dark in his room, but hearing it from Kyson- the boy who had stood by and watched it happen, was different.
"Vanessa was the one who cut her," Kyson choked out, a tear finally escaping and rolling down his face. "Peggy was the one who pushed her. They were supposed to make it look like a suicide so the 'person' paying them wouldn't be linked to a crime. They thought she was dead. When she survived and moved away, they thought they were safe. But then she came back."
"Who, Kyson?" Ethan stepped into Kyson's personal space, his temper finally flaring, his hands curling into fists. "Who paid them to kill a fourteen-year-old girl?"
Kyson swallowed hard, his face twisting in a mask of pure, unadulterated shame. "I got it on video. I made Vanessa say the name. I told her I'd protect her from the cops if she told me the truth. But I can't do anything."
He hit play on a video file. The screen showed a dark, grainy image of a park bench. Vanessa's voice was unmistakable- high-pitched, hysterical, and terrified.
"It was Margaret, Kyson! Your mother! She said Annie was a mistake that needed to be erased! She said she'd take care of our families if we just made sure Annie didn't wake up from the 'jump'! She's been paying us for years to keep quiet!"
The silence that followed the recording was deafening. Kyson looked at Ethan, his eyes pleading for a forgiveness he knew he didn't deserve.
"She used me, Ethan," Kyson whispered, his voice breaking. "She made me hate Annie so I wouldn't look at what she was doing. She made me a monster so she could be a queen. I feel... I feel sick. I want to help. I want to help you save her, because my dad... Dylan... he doesn't know he's sleeping next to a murderer."
Ethan looked at the phone, then at the boy he had hated for so long. The fire of his rage was still there, but it was being redirected. He thought of the DNA test currently processing in a lab two towns away. He thought of Brandon Vance.
"You want to help?" Ethan asked, his voice dropping to a lethal, quiet calm.
Kyson nodded frantically. "Anything. I'll do anything."
Ethan reached out and grabbed Kyson by the front of his shirt, but he didn't hit him. He pulled him close, his green eyes burning with a terrifying clarity.
"Then you're going to help me destroy her," Ethan said. "I have the motive. You have the confession. And tomorrow morning, I'm going to have the blood evidence that proves your entire life is a lie Margaret built on Annie's back."
Kyson didn't flinch. He just nodded, his jaw setting in a mirror of Ethan's own resolve.
"Tell me what to do."