MIRA
Each step away from home stretches like taffy these days. The curb seems miles off now.
Funny how just his presence felt like a promise. Staying would have been his way of fixing it, wrestling the world on my behalf. I stopped him mid-step, voice flat but firm. Said I had to face it without backup. Here's what curls tight inside me - seeing him give up more for my sake almost breaks something. Watching that light dim again? Not happening.
It never stops buzzing, that phone of mine. Some unknown digits keep lighting it up. Nasty notes show up every few minutes. Mean warnings too. Even mocking comments aimed right at me. Reading them feels pointless now. Blocking them doesn't help either. Why bother? New ones appear just the same.
Down at the corner where buses pull in, Priya waits. One glance at how I look - she says nothing. Instead of words, her presence settles near mine, just within reach but not crowding. Quiet like that, she holds the moment together.
"I heard," she says quietly. "About your application."
She knew about it, sure enough. Word had reached every corner already. That kind of news spreads quick through Westbrook.
"It's gone," I say. "Three years of work. Gone."
Priya is quiet for a moment. Then: "My sister had something similar happen. Her freshman year of college. Someone hacked her admissions portal, changed her documents. She almost lost her scholarship."
My eyes go to her. What could she have done?
"She fought. Took screenshots. Saved everything. Went to the administration, then to the police, then to the media. It took months, but she proved it wasn't her fault." Priya meets my eyes. "The point is, it's not over until you say it's over."
"Selena's father is on the board. Her family donates millions. Who's going to believe me over her?"
"I don't know." Priya's voice is honest, not cruel. "But I know that if you give up now, she wins. And from everything I've seen, Mira Castillo doesn't give up."
Footsteps echo as the bus rolls up too fast to speak. Inside, we climb on, take our usual spot near the rear window where silence fits just right instead of words. Outside, everything moves while we stay still.
***
Up ahead, Westbrook Academy stands - pretty, harsh. Through the gates they come, one after another, dressed too well, voices loud, caught up in their world like nothing weighs on them. Once, I slipped between them unseen. These days, each person looks when I walk by.
Right away, the murmurs begin.
There she is.
Last thing on everyone's mind - something went down. Word spread fast.
Turned down, her request never made it through. Unbelievable, right?
Likely fell short from the start.
Head stays low. Steps move forward, slow but steady. Each foot finds its place ahead of the last.
A bell rings. My first class waits - AP History. Halfway down the hall, fingers clamp my arm. A yank backward. The door clicks shut behind me.
Spinning fast, I brace - only to see Damen. Worry pulls at his features. He looks hard into my eyes.
"I've been looking everywhere for you. Are you okay?"
"No." I pull my arm free. "I'm not okay. My future just got deleted by a girl with too much money and too little conscience. So no, I'm not okay."
"I know. I'm sorry. I - "
"Don't." The word comes out sharper than I intended. "Don't apologize. Don't try to fix it. There's nothing you can do."
"There's always something." He steps closer, lowering his voice. "I've been thinking. My family has lawyers. Good ones. If we can prove Selena did this - "
"Prove it how? With what evidence? She's too smart to leave a trail."
"Maybe. But Briar isn't."
I blink. "What?"
"Briar. She's the one who actually does the work. Selena plans, Briar executes. If anyone left a digital footprint, it's her." He pauses. "And I know something about Briar. Something that might make her talk."
"What?"
"She has a little sister. At a different school. Someone Selena doesn't know about." His eyes are intense. "Briar's been protecting her for years - keeping her out of Selena's orbit, away from that whole world. If we can get to her - "
"Blackmail?" I stare at him. "You want to blackmail someone into confessing?"
"I want to give Briar a reason to choose differently. Right now, she's loyal to Selena because she's scared. Scared of what Selena will do if she crosses her. But if she had something - someone - more important to protect..."
Maybe it's her eyes I remember first. Distance means nothing when protection is the goal. Giving up pieces of myself - sometimes that feels like the only honest choice. Loyalty shifts, depending on whose name you whisper at night.
"I don't know," I say slowly. "That feels like becoming them."
"Maybe." He doesn't disagree. "But sometimes you have to fight fire with fire."
The school chimes again. Three minutes until class begins. Better move now. Act interested in old events while everything around me falls apart.
This time, my eyes land on Damen, really settle on him, then it hits me - he'd give up anything just to keep me safe.
"Let me think about it," I say. "One day. Just give me one day to figure out if I can do this."
He nods. "One day. But Mira - " He catches my hand. "Whatever you decide, I'm with you. Okay?"
One quick press of his hand, after that I step back and walk toward class.
***
SELENA
Floating comes over me by the middle of the morning.
Word traveled fast - just how I wanted it. Now nobody stays quiet. They whisper at desks, in hallways, between classes. That scholarship kid who believed she could fit into Columbia, into Damen's world, into anything here… well, doors closed. Her name stumbles out of mouths like a joke gone flat. People watch. They judge. She doesn't belong. Not really. And now even she must see it.
Between lessons, I see her pass by herself, eyes on the ground. Smaller now than before. Like something inside has cracked. That's how it should be.
Briar spots me during lunch, face unreadable on purpose.
"It's done," she says quietly. "The application's gone. Permanent deletion."
"Any traces?"
"Clean. I used a public terminal, different network, everything." She pauses. "Selena... are we sure about this? About any of this? She's just a girl."
"She's a girl trying to take what's mine." I spear a piece of lettuce with my fork. "Don't go soft on me now, Briar. We're in this together."
"I know." But her voice lacks conviction. "I just... never mind. It's done."
A quiet look follows her back as she moves off, lips pressing into a tiny line. Not once has Briar pushed back on what I said. Always moved without pause. This feels altered now.
She'll need watching. That much is clear.
***
MIRA
Fog fills my head by the time seventh period arrives.
Now the whispers twist into something sharper. Someone scribbled "SLUT" across my locker with thick black ink. My textbook - third period - ended up soaked, dropped right into standing water. Girls trailed behind me in the hallway, mimicking how I move, what I wear, everything about me they think means less.
Right there in AP English, half listening to Mrs. Ashford go on about how stories fit together, my phone gives a little shake. Not supposed to look, rules say no phones during lessons, still I peek anyway.
Mira, it's Elena. There's a problem. A person stands near Sasha's home. They're just standing there, looking. Fear sits heavy in my chest.
Fear grips me so hard my veins feel frozen.
I raise my hand. "Mrs. Ashford? I need to go to the bathroom."
Out the door she motions without a glance my way, eyes stuck on scribbles.
Before she completes the move, I'm already down the hall, phone in hand, calling Elena. One ring cuts through the quiet. Then another follows. A third sounds out, unanswered.
Voicemail.
Still no answer when I try the phone once more. Silence.
Again. Nothing showed up. A second attempt passed without result.
Now I run, feet pounding the hallway floor, heading for the door. What comes next? Unclear. The Shallows is twenty minutes off, no vehicle waiting, nothing quick to reach it. Still - trying matters. That part feels necessary.
Out of nowhere I'm pushing into the building, nearly slamming right into Damen.
"Whoa - Mira, what - "
"Elena." I can barely breathe. "She texted. Someone's outside Sasha's house. Watching. Now she's not answering."
His face goes pale. "Get in my car. Now."
Back presses into seat as tires scream off pavement. Cars blur past while he cuts between them - no warning, just motion. Red lights mean nothing here. School shrinks in the mirror, left behind without a glance.
"Call her again," he orders.
I do. Yet still, silence remains. Nothing shows up.
"Try Sasha's mom."
Terrified, I sit here empty-handed - no number, just dread piling up. Worse still, a gut punch whispers Selena crossed some line she can't come back from.
***
SELENA
Last stretch of class, then my phone buzzes. Message shows up - no name, just digits
Paperwork sorted. Location checked twice. Waiting on next steps.
My grin spreads as I erase the message, then shift toward the notebook again. The screen fades while fingers find paper, thoughts returning where they left off. A breath pulls in, eyes refocus - ink on page now holds everything.
Third comes showing her how fragile those close to her truly are. Safety slips away when least expected. People she holds dear? They're within reach of harm now. Nothing shields them anymore. The message sinks in slowly - then all at once.
***
MIRA
Out past the tires still shuddering, my feet hit pavement fast. Sasha lives in a low bungalow tucked down a hushed block - exactly the sort of spot trouble skips. The engine hasn't even settled when I'm already moving, sprinting toward the front step without waiting.
Fists slam against the door - solid, unmoving. Shouting her name now, voice raw, trapped behind steel.
A figure appears in the doorway. It is Sasha's mother, caught mid-motion, holding a cloth meant for drying. Her face shows she does not understand what she sees.
"Mira? What's wrong?"
"Elena - where's Elena? Is she okay?"
"She's fine. She's in the backyard with Sasha. What's - "
I shove my way by her, move across the room, step outside into the yard. She's right there - Elena, planted on the lawn, bent sideways with laughter over whatever flashes on Sasha's screen. Breathing. In one piece. Not touched.
A sudden halt. Waves of release crash down, nearly dropping me to the ground.
"Mira?" Elena looks up, her smile fading. "What's wrong? Why are you here?"
"You texted me." I'm gasping, trying to breathe. "You said someone was watching. You said you were scared."
Elena's brow furrows. "I didn't text you. My phone's been dead all afternoon. I haven't even - " She pats her pockets, pulls out her phone. Black screen. "See? Dead."
My fingers find the phone first. A swipe opens the screen. The message sits there, clear as anything. Her eyes follow mine down to it.
She reads it, and her face goes pale. "I didn't send that, Mira. I swear. I didn't send anything."
From behind, Damen shows up. He scans the words I'm reading. A muscle in his face pulls taut.
"It's a trap," he says quietly. "Someone wanted you to come here. Wanted you to panic."
"Who? Selena?"
"Probably. But why - "
A noise stops his words. Not near, yet moving in. Those sirens again.
Out near the road, everyone shifts that way. Through the branches, flashes of red, then blue. Up rolls a squad car, another right behind it, stopping at Sasha's place.
Out of nowhere, Sasha's mom shoves by, making a beeline for the door. Then - silence.
My pulse races, though the cause has shifted completely.
Footsteps crunch on gravel as I step into the front yard, spotting two officers walking closer. Their boots tap a slow rhythm, one of them glancing my way before shifting eyes to a sheet he holds. His fingers tighten slightly around the paper.
"Mira Castillo?"
"Yes?"
"You need to come with us."
"What? Why?"
The officer's face is neutral, professional. "We received a report of a disturbance. Neighbors called about a screaming woman, possible domestic situation. Then we ran your information and found an outstanding warrant."
"A warrant? For what?"
"Child endangerment. Your mother's recent arrest triggered an investigation. There are questions about your sister's living situation. About who's been caring for her."
Everything shifts sideways. My hand reaches toward Damen's arm.
"That's not - I didn't - Elena is - "
"You can explain at the station." The officer reaches for my arm. "You have the right to remain silent..."
Sound fades out after that. Words melt into noise, empty of sense. Her face fills my vision - Elena, pale with fear - while they pull me back.
Mira!" she shouts, sprinting forward - until Sasha's mother grabs her arm, pulling her behind. "Mira! You can't have her! She hasn't done a single thing wrong."
Damen steps forward, his voice sharp. "This is a mistake. She's a minor. She's Elena's legal guardian - "
"That's exactly the question, son." The other officer blocks his path. "Step back. Don't interfere."
Inside the squad car now, the door shuts hard behind me. Outside the glass, Elena fights against them, tears streaming, hands stretched my way. Damen stands nearby, voice sharp into his phone, moving fast to undo what just happened. My view stays fixed through the pane, watching everything unfold in jagged pieces.
There it is, down the road - a known vehicle. A black four-door waits. Windows darkened by film. It eases forward without hurry.
Selena's car.
Fading into the turn, the car slips out of sight. Cold steel presses against my skin, the only thing still here. What happens now - every piece of it - was her plan all along.
***
DAMEN
The moment the police car fades from sight, a shift happens deep within. Then everything feels different.
Sudden cracks instead of pauses. Everything snaps - suddenly sharp. Clear vision cuts through.
Fight has come. Not pretend - actual battle. For too many days I took steps backward.
That fifth try finally brings sound. My phone connects. No reply at first. Another attempt follows. Silence again. Then a third dial. A fourth rings out too. His voice arrives late, flat, far away.
"Now is not a good time."
"Father, please. Mira's been arrested. It's a setup - Selena Vance is behind it. I need your lawyers. I need - "
"You need to learn when to cut your losses."
The blow landed hard. "Huh?"
"This girl - this Castillo girl - she's brought nothing but trouble. Selena's father called me. Explained the situation. Your little... infatuation... is causing problems for everyone. It's time to end it."
"End it? She's in jail because of a lie!"
"She's in jail because of her choices. Her family. Her situation. None of which are your responsibility." A pause. "Come home, Damen. We'll pretend this never happened. But if you continue down this path - "
"Then what?"
"Then you're on your own."
The connection cuts out without warning.
There I am, planted on the pavement, grip tight around my phone, eyes stuck on the tail end of flashing colors melting into night. Inside, Sasha's mother moves slow beside Elena, voice soft like she's taming a storm. Faces peek through glass nearby - curtains twitched open, neighbors frozen mid-gossip. Everyone sees. Nothing hides.
I've got empty pockets. My bank account sits at zero. Influence? Not a scrap. The few links I had - the kind that matter - slipped away like smoke.
One thing sticks in my mind though.
Mira trusts me. It shows in how she looks at things, like I'm not just another face.
There's no way I'd ever let her down.
Trying the number once more. Someone else answers now.
"Leo? It's Damen. I need a favor. A big one."
His words come out slow. A question hangs in the air - what sort of request follows now? He does not rush it
"The kind that might get you in trouble. The kind that involves a girl, a police station, and a war with one of the richest families in Connecticut."
A pause. Then: "Tell me where to meet you."
Fine. I speak my piece. The phone clicks dead in its cradle. My gaze pulls to the house - Elena's voice cracks through a window.
This won't stop now. Far from it.
***
MIRA
Fog presses against the walls, slow and low. Concrete drinks warmth straight from your bones. A sour tang hangs thick - cleaning spray mixed with something older. Light cuts down in flat sheets, lifeless. Nothing moves except shadows stretching across the floor.
Staring at the cracked paint on the far wall, my back pressed into the unforgiving wood of the bench. Silence hums in my ears, thick enough to drown out reason. She might be trembling - Elena - maybe calling my name under her breath. The thought arrives like a stone dropped down a well. Not knowing if help is coming would eat at anyone. My hands stay flat on my knees, unmoving. Distance grows teeth when you let it.
An officer appears. "Castillo. You have a visitor."
A door opens into a narrow space, split by clear glass. Across from me is someone unfamiliar: gray at the temples, dressed in crisp fabric, shadows under his gaze.
"Ms. Castillo. I'm Harrison Cole. Damen Blackwood sent me."
I open my eyes quick. A lawyer?
"Of sorts. I'm a private investigator, actually. Used to be a cop. Damen's family has used my services before." He leans forward. "Tell me everything. From the beginning. Don't leave anything out."
Pausing a moment. It takes time to believe.
Fighting is what Damen does, even now. It was Damen who dispatched him.
Out loud, words come. He hears it all - Selena first, then the warnings piling up after that. The scholarship form sits between us like a stone. A message from Elena shows up, but it isn't her typing. Something felt off. Later, near dusk, a car idles far down the road.
After I'm done, a slow nod comes from him.
"That car. Can you describe it?"
"Dark sedan. Tinted windows. I didn't get the plates."
"That's okay. The model? Approximate year?"
I close my eyes, visualize. "Mercedes. Newer. Black. Maybe an S-Class?"
He writes it down. "Selena's mother drives a black S-Class. I checked on the way here."
My heart jumps. "Then you believe me?"
"I believe there's enough smoke to warrant looking for fire." He stands. "Sit tight, Ms. Castillo. I'll be in touch."
"Sit tight?" I almost laugh. "My sister is out there alone. Scared. With no one to protect her."
"Actually, she's not alone." He pauses at the door. "Damen's with her. And from what I've seen of that boy, he'd burn the world down before he let anything happen to someone you love."
He leaves.
The chill settles in as I stay put, just me, the pale walls watching. A shaky glow pulses nearby, casting uneven shadows across the floor.
This feeling - strange, quiet - creeps in now, where none had been for months. Something shifts inside when I least expect it.
Hope.