***
The text glared at me from the phone like a slap to the face.
Unknown: He didn't just watch the fire. He lit the first match.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't blink. The room around me faded into static. Jace's arm draped around my waist, his breath soft and steady against my neck, completely unaware of the time bomb that had just detonated on my screen.
My thumb hovered over the reply button, but my fingers shook too much to type.
What if it's true?
What if I'd just given my body, my heart—hell, my soul—to a killer?
"Leah…" Jace's sleepy voice pulled me from the spiral. He pressed a warm kiss to my bare shoulder, then nudged the curve of my hip with his.
"Come back to bed."
His voice was still raspy with sex, lips brushing against my ear like a drug. I wanted to close my eyes and get high on him again.
But the message was a sobering jolt of reality.
I slipped out from under the sheets. "I need water."
Jace's eyes cracked open. "Everything okay?"
I forced a smile. "Just thirsty."
Lie number one.
***
I padded into the kitchen, the house too silent, too dark, my thoughts echoing loud inside my skull.
I reread the message.
He lit the first match.
I needed answers. More than what Jace gave me. And I needed them now.
I typed back.
Me: Who are you? Why are you doing this?
It didn't take long.
Unknown: Because you're not safe. And neither is he.
I gripped the edge of the counter, the cool marble grounding me.
Me: Prove it. If you know something—send it.
This time, the response came with an image. Blurry. Grainy. But I recognized the dorm hallway from the article. Flames danced at the edge of the frame… and in the center stood a shadowed figure holding a lighter.
Unknown: This was taken five minutes before the fire started. Look closely.
I did.
Even with the poor resolution, I recognized the outline of the tattoo creeping over his shoulder.
My stomach twisted.
It was Jace.
***
I didn't sleep that night. I sat curled on the edge of my bed, blanket wrapped tight around me like it could protect me from the war inside my chest.
He stirred once, reached for me in his sleep, but I slid farther away.
He didn't notice.
And that only made it worse.
***
The Next Morning
He was gone when I woke up. The sheets were cold. His scent lingered, but no sign of him remained.
Until I saw the note on my pillow.
> Had to clear my head. Took the bike. Be back before dinner.
—J
I read it a dozen times. Each word felt like a knife twisting deeper.
I wanted to scream. Or cry. Or both. Instead, I went for my phone.
Another text was waiting for me.
Unknown: He won't come back until nightfall. You need to decide before then—will you confront him… or turn him in?
Turn him in.
The words made my chest seize.
I couldn't imagine calling the cops, giving them his name, his location, feeding him to the flames of justice—if there even was justice in all of this.
But I couldn't ignore the photo either.
Was it guilt I saw in his eyes every time I mentioned the fire… or something darker?
***
I couldn't sit with the question. So I made a choice.
I went to see someone who might know more—someone Jace hadn't mentioned, but who was tied to the story.
His ex.
***
Noon – Venice Beach
Her name was Ivy Monroe. She was a year older than Jace, a former student at Westview too.
Finding her wasn't hard. She had a public Instagram, all artsy tattoos, crystals, and captions that reeked of trauma disguised as poetry.
I messaged her.
Me: Hi Ivy. I'm Jace's stepsister. Can we talk?
Her reply came within minutes.
Ivy: I thought he was dead. Meet me at Karma Café in thirty minutes. Come alone.
***
She was already seated when I arrived, sipping a turmeric latte and wearing round sunglasses that covered half her face.
"Leah, right?" she asked, her voice low, tired.
I nodded and sat across from her.
"You're sleeping with him."
It wasn't a question.
I said nothing.
She took off her sunglasses. Her eyes were sharp, a little broken. "I was, too. Until the fire."
I licked my lips. "Did he… start it?"
Ivy looked out the window. "That night was chaos. But no, I don't think he did."
Relief hit me like a wave—and then Ivy continued.
"But he knew who did. And he covered for them."
My breath caught.
"I begged him to go to the police," Ivy said, voice shaking. "But he said no. Said they'd come for me too."
"They?"
She leaned in, dropping her voice. "Westview isn't just an academy. It's a breeding ground for rich kids with even richer secrets. Drugs. Hazing. Underground parties. Jace got caught up in it. But when his roommate threatened to expose everyone, someone silenced him."
"And Jace let it happen."
"Worse," Ivy said. "He helped them hide it. Said he owed them."
I stared at her, stunned. "Why are you telling me this?"
She gave a bitter smile. "Because you deserve the truth before you end up in ashes too."
***
That Night
Jace returned after sunset. His hair windswept, eyes guarded, leather jacket clinging to him like a second skin.
He looked like the same boy I'd fallen into bed with.
And I couldn't stop seeing the monster underneath.
"I need to ask you something," I said, blocking the hallway to his room.
He raised a brow. "Sounds serious."
I held up my phone. "Is this you?"
His face paled. One second. Two.
"Yes," he said finally. "But it's not what it looks like."
"It looks like you were there. Five minutes before the fire."
"I was. I was supposed to meet someone there that night. He was going to snitch. I was going to stop him—talk him out of it. But when I got there, the flames were already starting. I ran."
"Why didn't you tell the police?"
"Because I wasn't just a witness, Leah. I was involved. I was part of that inner circle. Drugs. Parties. Secrets. If I spoke, they'd bury me."
Tears pricked my eyes. "You buried yourself the moment you ran."
He stepped closer. "I never wanted to bring you into this."
"Too late," I whispered.
"I'll walk away right now," he said. "If that's what you want. I'll disappear again."
I looked at him—at the chaos in his soul, the lies wrapped in truth, the guilt carved into every scar.
And then I did something even I didn't expect.
I kissed him.
Hard.
Hungry.
Desperate.
And when we fell into bed again, it wasn't just lust.
It was a choice.
To hold onto something that might destroy me.
Because I couldn't walk away either.
***
Later, while he slept beside me, I checked my phone one last time.
A new message blinked on the screen.
Unknown: You had your chance to run. Now you're just collateral damage.
And beneath that…
A live video feed.
Of me.
Sleeping.
In Jace's arms.