˗ˏˋ༻ʚDelphine's POVɞ༺ˎˊ˗

I wasnʼt on the verge of dying, yet it felt like the walls were closing in on me, like my very breath had been stolen. The edges of my mind flickered with half-formed memories, as though my life was unravelling before my eyes. Maybe this was what people felt when fear wrapped its icy fingers around them: the heaviness in the chest, the cold feet that refused to move, and the terrible realisation that escape is just an illusion.

Ivie stood in front of me, her eyes wide, and her lips quivering with words she hadn't yet spoken. I didn't know what to do with her gaze. Should I laugh it off, mock her the way others did, and pretend she was simply insane? The thought crossed my mind, but it didnʼt stick. Something in her eyes, not sure if it was desperation or sincerity, made it impossible to go with that thought.

This was serious. A quiet girl, a wallflower, had unmasked me. She had pieced together what others had overlooked, and the way my stomach twisted told me how dangerous that truth was.

I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself, but that ability kept slipping. My eyes darted away, returning unwillingly to hers, betraying the nervous tremor beneath my skin. She hadn't threatened me, hadn't even raised her voice, and yet I felt stripped bare.

“How’d you know?” The words left me quieter than I wanted, timid, and fragile. My throat burned with shame at how small I sounded, and I hated it. I hated that I was giving her this much power without her even trying.

Her hand shook against her side. Her throat bobbed as she forced down a lump that refused to be swallowed.

“We can’t talk here,” she said at last. Her voice was hushed but urgent, and her eyes darted over her shoulder as if the shadows themselves were listening. “Can you . . . please come with me?”

Every instinct screamed for me to turn away, to run until I was far from this moment. Yet my feet betrayed me, planted firmly on the ground as if they were bound in invisible chains.

“Fine,” I breathed, the word barely audible. “Lead the way.”

If there was one person I didn't want tangled in this mess, it was Krystian. And yet, as Ivie led me down the corridor, my hand slipped into my pocket, fumbling for my phone. The glow of the screen reflected off my shaky fingers as I typed, almost desperately.

I sent a message and locked the phone away just as Ivie glanced back.

“I’m sorry if this looks strange,” she whispered.

Clearing my throat, I lengthened my stride until I was walking beside her, the echo of our footsteps bouncing off the empty walls.

“When did you know?” My voice was careful, curious but low. Her eyes flickered briefly to mine before retreating.

“Since the very first day you came into this school,” she whispered back.

Her words only deepened the thirst for answers. And after that, silence again; the kind that grew heavier with each step.

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗

We reached the press club, the door looming before us, and its handle cold and worn from use. I glanced over my shoulder, hoping, searching for a glimpse of Krystian. Nothing. Just the long, empty hallway staring back at me.

“Please, come in,” Ivie murmured, her hand still gripping the knob.

My throat tightened. Was I about to step into my own undoing? Maybe. But curiosity gnawed at me, pulling me forward even as dread tried to hold me back.

Inside, darkness occupied the space. The air smelt stale, untouched, like the room had been holding its breath for years. Ivie lifted her phone, the small torchlight trembling in her hand, as shadows danced along the walls until my fingers found the switch. With a sharp click, the light poured over the room, revealing dust, old chairs, and silence thick enough to choke.

“This room’s been vacant since Danielle died,” Ivie said softly, settling into a chair. Her voice sounded fragile in the stillness.

I mirrored her movement, lowering myself into the chair opposite while fighting to keep my composure.

“What did you mean by knowing about me from the very first day?” I asked. My tone was sharper now, the weight of my stare pinning her.

She flinched, lowering her gaze. “Because Danielle told me.”

The world seemed to stop. My chest rose and fell unevenly.

“What?” The word tore from me. “Why would Danielle talk to you about me?”

Her lips trembled, but she forced herself to meet my eyes. “Because she was proud of you. She talked about you constantly and about the pictures you two took together. When you walked into this school, it wasnʼt hard to recognise you.”

Her words dug deep, tearing at wounds I thought had scarred over. Memories stirred, sharp and unbearable, and I shoved them down quickly, refusing to be trapped in that cage again.

“Why you of all people?” My voice cracked, but I didnʼt care. “Why not, Kim? She was closer to Kim.”

“There’s a difference between being close . . . and being close to someone’s soul,” Ivie whispered, standing now. She began pacing, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, as if to keep from falling apart. “Danielle saved me. She found me when I thought no one would.”

Her words were blurred, half-explained, and half-broken, and it made my head ache.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered, my voice thinner than I intended.

Ivie stopped pacing. Her eyes met mine, glistening with something raw, something almost unbearable. “Toyosi wasnʼt the only one working in Puzz nʼ Bootz.”

The words dropped heavy, strange and out of place, but I caught the tremor in her tone.

“Ivie—” I started, the screech of my chair legs breaking the silence as I pushed back. But she cut me off, her voice rising before mine could steady.

“Long before Toyosi joined, there was me.” Her voice cracked like brittle glass, her hands shaking behind her back as if she was physically holding her fear in place. “I thought there was no escape, but Danielle pulled me out. She swore she would expose the one extorting teens into that act.”

Her throat tightened as tears welled in her eyes, spilling her pain into the air between us.

“But she couldn’t live to do it,” she choked out. “Because that same person murdered her in cold blood.”

My breath hitched as the room seemed to tilt.

“Ivie,” I rushed, my voice breaking, “who killed my sister?”

The silence that followed was unbearable, pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. I felt my nails dig into my palms as frustration boiled through me.

“You worked there, so you must know. Why arenʼt you saying anything?”

“Because that same person will kill me if I do say something!” Ivie's voice thundered, echoing against the walls, shaking more from fear than anger. Tears ran freely down her cheeks now, and her shoulders trembled. “They’ll kill you, and they’ll kill anyone who tries to expose them. You canʼt go after them without proof!”

Her cry broke me. My own tears blurred my vision before I even realised I was crying too.

“I don’t want to die, Delphine,” she whispered, her voice cracking like a candle wick burning out. “Please.”

I collapsed back into the chair, covering my face with my hands. My chest heaved as I tried to cage my emotions while trying not to fall apart.

“Why did you bring me here then?” My words muffled against my palms. “To make me miserable?”

“To help you,” she whispered. Her voice trembled, but her eyes carried a heavy sincerity.

Was she joking? Was this all a cruel play? I stared at her, desperate for a hint of deception, but all I saw was a terrified girl, desperate to be believed.

“My life will be in danger if you get this wrong, Delphine.”

“What do you mean by—”

“Danielle synced her phone to my laptop,” Ivie interrupted, her words tumbling out in a rush. “Probably because she knew this day would come. The police said there was nothing on her phone, but I can prove she was meeting someone that day, in this very room. The backup chats are still on my laptop.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she pulled something from her pocket. A small, silver USB glinting in the light.

“What’s that?” I asked, my voice tight.

“Evidence,” she whispered, holding it out like it was fragile. “Proof that your sister was murdered.”

My breath stilled, and my eyes locked on the tiny drive, as though it carried the weight of the whole world.

And then the door burst open.

The sound slammed against my ears, and I snapped my head toward it, my heart thundering in panic.

Krystian stood there, breathless, chest heaving as though he'd run across the entire school.

“Delphine!” He called, stepping in quickly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m—” The word barely left my lips before Ivie stood, her body stiff with panic.

"Please . . ." Her voice shook. "Don't get this wrong, and don't act in haste. Because if you do . . . Iʼll die.”

Her voice cut through the air, sharp as glass. And just like that, she walked out, leaving silence behind.

Krystian and I exchanged bewildered looks, both of us frozen in place.

“What was that about?” he asked finally, his brow furrowed.

I said nothing. I knew I would have to tell him sooner or later. But right now, the words lodged in my throat like splinters.

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗

It was finally closing hours; the late afternoon sun had begun to fade, casting long shadows across the path as Krystian held the drive between his fingers. He stared at it intently, the small device catching the dying light. I'd already poured everything out to him, but ever since then, he'd said nothing.

“Let’s go to the computer room,” I finally suggested, the words cutting into the silence.

“And get exposed immediately?” His eyes narrowed as he tossed the drive back to me. The sharpness in his tone prickled against my skin.

“What do you mean?” I pressed, clutching the drive in my hand like it might vanish if I let go.

He stopped walking, forcing me to stop too. “Because, Delphine, it wonʼt take a soothsayer to know that the person behind your sisterʼs death might be in this very school. You canʼt trust anyone.”

His words cut deeper than I wanted to admit.

“Does that include you?”

Krystian chuckled lightly, resting a hand on my shoulder. His eyes, though, held something I couldnʼt read.

“Let’s clear this up, new girl,” he said with that stupid nickname. “If you can’t trust me, who will you trust?”

His hand lingered for a moment before he stepped ahead, leading me toward the parking lot. A sleek black Mercedes waited like a beast in the shadows.

I raised a brow as Krystian opened the door for me, holding it with uncharacteristic patience.

“What’s with you?” I scoffed but slipped inside anyway.

“Can’t I be nice for once?” he shrugged, flashing that infuriating grin.

The car smelt faintly of leather. I folded my arms, staring out the window, trying not to feel the ache that flared every time I remembered his loyalty to Toyosi.

“Where are we going?” My voice was flat.

“My place.”

I jerked toward him, eyes wide. “I’m sorry, what?”

“My parents aren’t home. You don’t need to be so guarded.”

The teasing smirk playing on his lips only made me fidget more while shifting in my seat.

“Why your place?” I demanded. “Why not mine?”

“Why are you so jumpy?” he asked, his smile deepening.

“I’m not jumpy,” I shot back, clearing my throat. “Just curious.”

His laughter filled the car, soft but mocking. And then his voice lowered, with his eyes flicking to me in a way that made my chest tighten.

“You know when youʼre cutest?” he asked, leaning slightly closer. “It’s when you pretend to let your guard down.”

My heart betrayed me, beating wildly against my ribs. His gaze was steady, almost mesmerising—

“Boundaries!” I snapped, shoving him back to his side. I felt my heart twisting with anger and something else I refused to name. But the fact that he was so into Toyosi, to the point of always defending her, while still teasing me in ways that made my heart beat faster, only proved how much of a player he’d become in the future.

“It seems Danielle wasn’t very much hated after all,” Krystian sighed, leaning back in his chair. “She’d helped Kim, Ivie—based on what you’ve said—and apparently made Hymn fall for her.”

“I’m sorry, what?” My voice rose an octave without my permission. Krystian’s gaze met mine, steady and unbothered. “Doesn’t your friend like Toyosi? Or am I missing the whole plot?”

“He does,” he said with another sigh, this time heavier, his eyes wandering toward the car window. “I think he was in that stage where he liked two people. One being his original crush, and the other being the one who tried to help him forget her.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” I muttered, lowering my voice as though someone might overhear. “If he’d liked Danielle, then why would he have had that huge quarrel with her?”

“It’s all because of Praise.”

“As in life?”

Krystian nodded once.

I bit down on my lower lip, a sharp sting spreading across it. “I thought it’d be about Toyosi.”

“Well,” he shrugged, “the argument started with Toyosi . . . but ended with Praise.”

I pressed my forehead against the car’s cool window for a second, wishing it would absorb my confusion. It felt like my head was about to explode, not just from the info dump, but from the sheer frustration of it. This whole thing was tangled in ways that made no sense, like strings of yarn tightening around my brain. I wanted to scream, to run mad, just so my thoughts could rest.

The car finally slowed before a huge gate. Krystian’s driver pressed the horn, and within moments the iron swung open. My eyes widened despite myself. The mansion that rose beyond was breathtaking, a fortress. I fought the urge to gape, masking my awe with a bored blink.

“Welcome to my nest,” Krystian said with a smirk.

I snickered but quickly cleared my throat at once. He opened his door, and I followed suit. Together, we walked through the driveway until the front doors opened into a home that made even silence feel expensive.

In the living room, I sank into the comfiest sofa I had ever seen, the cushions wrapping around me like they wanted me to stay forever. Krystian disappeared upstairs, leaving me to wrestle with my thoughts. I tried not to overthink the situation, not to dwell on the fact that I was here, in Krystian’s home. It shouldn’t have mattered. He’d been in mine countless times. Still, something about being in his space and surrounded by his world unsettled me in ways I couldn’t name.

“Come over,” his voice carried down.

I looked up to see Krystian standing at the edge of another pathway, with a MacBook in hand. He led the way, and I followed until we entered a dining room half the size of the living room, yet still overwhelming with its long oak table and polished chandelier.

“Lie that you’ve never seen my house like a closet,” I muttered casually, pulling out a chair and sitting down, while trying to reclaim some normalcy.

“You’ve been to Femi’s place, haven’t you?” Krystian set the laptop on the dining table, the metal scraping softly against the surface. “Compared to his, mine isn’t that impressive.”

“But yours is far more stylishly touched,” I replied without thinking, my eyes darting across the marble floors.

He smiled, one that looked too genuine for my peace of mind. “What would you like? And don’t say water.”

A laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it. I instantly hated myself for letting him have that victory. I reminded myself that I was still mad at him.

“What do you have?”

“Whatever you want. If we don’t have it, I’ll ask someone to order it.”

I hesitated, not wanting to cause anyone an extra burden for my own satisfaction. “Whatever snacks will do.”

Krystian nodded and left. The silence stretched, filled only by the faint ticking of the clock in the corner. When he returned, he carried with him a tray containing a Hollandia juice pack, a glass cup, and carbon biscuits neatly arranged on a ceramic plate.

“Thank you,” I muttered, my voice small.

“Can I have the drive?” he asked as I bit into a biscuit. The crunch echoed in my ears, as I reached into my bag, pulled out the drive, and handed it over.

Krystian paused, thumb resting on the lid, before lifting his eyes to mine. “Are you ready?”

My stomach knotted. Was I ready? In that drive was the truth behind my sister’s death. Not just the truth, but evidence solid enough to put them behind bars. Was I really ready for this?

I didn’t realise my hands were trembling until Krystian wrapped his around mine, warm and steady.

“If you’re not ready—”

“I am.” My voice broke, but I steadied it. I’d gone too far to develop cold feet. Not now. I was determined to find the truth and chase it to the very end.

I looked at Krystian, whose eyes didn’t waver from mine. His gaze held me, firm and unflinching.

“I’m ready.”

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗

Hey guys, that's it for today's chapter.

It's been a while hasn't it?

I'm here again with another cliff hanger while hoping you don't push me from it... Lol

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