***

"Macey, what's wrong?" I pressed the phone against my ear, my pulse picking up. "What happened?"

A sharp sigh crackled through the line.

"I need a picture."

My brows furrowed.

"A what? A picture? Of what?"

"Your face."

I blinked, momentarily thrown. My first thought was that at least she wasn't in any immediate danger, though my relief was short lived as confusion stepped in.

"Why?" I asked.

"Just send it."

Something about the situation made my insides twist.

"Macey, what is this for?"

"It doesn't matter."

I bit my lip. I really didn't want to jump to conclusions, but it was hard not to take a guess.

"Is this for that dating app?"

Silence. Just for a second. Then another sigh.

"Yeah. It's not a big deal. Rory just wants a face picture."

A cold sensation crawled up my skin. My grip on the phone tightened.

"Macey, I'm not sending you my picture for that. You have to tell him the truth."

"Can't you just do this one thing for me?" Her voice wavered — frustrated, but desperate too.

My chest tightened.

I wanted to help her. But this? This wasn't right.

"Macey, you have to stop this. You don't know who he really is."

"For fuck's sake, it's just a picture! And I know who he is!"

"What if he's lying about who he is and his age as well?"

She scoffed.

"If he was going to lie about his age, he would've picked something younger. I know what I'm doing. I'm not as naive as you. But fine. If you won't send one, I'll just use one of myself. Happy now?"

A chill plunged right through my heart. I stopped pacing.

"Macey, don't. Don't send him anything, please."

"That's up to you," she snapped.

Then the line went dead.

I stared at my phone, my heartbeat hammering against my ribs.

What should I do?

If I let this go, Macey could get in serious trouble.

My thoughts tangled, frantic and choking.

Mom.

Mom would know what to do.

But Macey would never forgive me...

A sharp breath ripped through me as I ran a hand through my hair, my pulse erratic. No. Macey's safety mattered more than her trust. Even if she despised me for it, I had to do the right thing.

Swallowing hard, I tapped my mom's contact, my fingers trembling as the phone rang. Across the room, Chaucer sat on the couch, watching me with eerie stillness.

Mom finally answered.

"What?" she asked.

"Mom, listen. I need to tell you something—"

"Where's the money?" she cut me off.

I blinked.

For a split second, I'd forgotten about the twenty grand Wikus had sent me. The funds had just become available this morning.

"I got it," I assured her quickly. "I'll send it, but first—"

"No. Now, Lucy." Her voice sharpened. "I don't even have money for dinner, and David needs more meds."

My breath stilled.

They weren't eating?

I forced myself to stay calm.

"I swear, I'll send it in a second. I just need you to listen about Macey. She's talking to some guy online. I think he's older, and I—"

"That's her business," Mom snapped. "Why are you bringing up her social life to me? Are you jealous?"

"What? No! It's not like that," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'm worried about her. This guy sounds off. He's asking for pictures, and she's only sixteen—"

"I don't care."

The words were so blunt, so dismissive, that they left me momentarily speechless.

"Leave Macey in peace," she continued. "I can't believe you're more concerned about some guy she's talking to than whether your family eats or gets proper treatment."

Guilt settled over me like thick sludge. I knew how bad I must have looked... But it felt like this situation with Macey was an emergency.

Heart pounding, I scrambled to open my banking app, fingers flying across the screen as I entered the transfer details.

I hit send.

Error.

My eyes widened.

What?

I tried again.

Transaction failed.

No... No, no, no.

My fingers grew clammy as I checked my balance. The money was there. Everything looked fine. But no matter how many times I retried, it wouldn't go through.

"Mom, I— I don't know what's happening. It won't send."

"What?"

"The money," I said, my chest tightening. "It's not going through. I don't know why."

"Bullshit," she hissed.

"I swear, I'm trying! I don't know why it's not working, but—"

"You think this is funny? You think I have time for your games?"

"Mom, I'm not lying," I pleaded, panic creeping into my voice. "Just give me a second to figure it out—"

"No. You better send it, Lucy. I stuck up for you with that psychologist. I didn't tell her anything bad. But if you keep treating me like this, I'll have to tell her the truth about you."

My heart raced as I remembered Macey's words.

"What truth?" I asked. "What have I done? I swear, I'm only trying my best."

"Ha. Yeah, I know what your 'best' looks like."

I shook my head, unable to understand the situation at all.

"Mom, I know it doesn't look good, but I'll send the money as soon as I can. It's just Macey—"

"I don't want to hear it."

She hung up.

I stood there, phone still pressed to my ear, my blood running cold.

No... It was such bad timing. If it wasn't for the banking app failing, Mom could've calmed down long enough to understand what trouble Macey was in.

Should I just drive there right now? But Wikus told me never to go back there... And I don't think I have the time.

My fingers shook as I typed.

Lucy: Macey, don't do it. Don't send anything.

The three dots popped up, disappearing and reappearing as she typed.

Macey: I'm sending it now.

It felt like my heart had leapt from my chest and rolled across the room. The thought of my little sister showing people pictures of herself was too much.

Lucy: No! Don't! I'll do it.

A pause.

Macey: Really?

My throat dried.

Lucy: Yes. Please, don't send anything of yourself.

Macey: It has to be in your bra.

The room felt like it was getting smaller as I stared at the message.

No. No, this wasn't okay. This was wrong. But what choice did I have? If I refused, Macey would send her own. And I didn't want that either.

Maybe I could've found another way, but I didn't have the time.

My hands went numb as I pulled off my sweater, then my blouse, setting them on the couch. I looked down at myself. At the soft pink bra with delicate frills. One of the things I'd picked on that shopping trip with Jace. It had seemed cute back then. Though now I felt silly for it.

My fingers trembled as I lifted my phone. I had never used the front camera before. The moment my face appeared on the screen, I flinched. My eyes looked too wide and large at this angle, my skin pale from the stress of it all.

I forced a smile.

Click.

The image was slightly blurred from how much my hands shook. But I couldn't bring myself to take another.

I sent it.

The second the message marked as delivered, nausea rolled through me. My skin prickled, my stomach knotting so tight it hurt.

A reply came almost immediately.

Macey: Thx.

That was it.

I stared at the screen.

I wanted to tell Jace. He'd fix this. He always knew what to do.

But what would he think of Macey?

He already despised my family. If he found out about this, I wasn't sure I wanted to know how he'd react. He just wouldn't understand. He didn't even love his own parents.

I gripped my phone, my knuckles aching.

I was completely at a loss.

Completely exhausted, I trudged through the process of getting ready for bed before rolling onto the mattress. My own skin felt foreign, like I didn't quite fit inside it.

I gathered all the stitched up stuffed animals, piling them around me until they formed a protective wall. Curling in on myself, I hugged them close, my fingers gripping the fur of a fluffy stuffed wolf.

"Mauw," Chaucer called, leaping onto the bed.

Eliot and Orwel followed, their soft bodies pressing against me as they settled in, large eyes blinking slow and watchful.

"Thanks, guys," I whispered.

The room felt smaller, the walls closer, but somehow their warmth made it a little more bearable.

What's the worst that could happen? I asked myself.

I was pretty sure my situation couldn't really get any worse as long as those I loved were safe. I wouldn't live long enough to deal with any consequences either. In contrast, Macey still had her whole life.

So, maybe this was for the better.

Rather than putting my stepsister at risk, I could afford to take responsibility.

That thought eased me enough to lull me into sleep.

***

The next morning, my phone buzzed with a message from Jace.

Jace: Can't pick you up today. Had to leave early. Drive safe.

I stared at the screen for a moment before sighing.

I threw on a sweater and jacket, grabbed my bag, and headed outside. The late November air was crisp, biting at my cheeks as I pulled my helmet over my head. The sky was dull and gray, and the scent of damp leaves lingered.

Classes dragged. I took notes, half-listened to lectures, and tried to focus, but my mind kept drifting. My phone sat heavy in my pocket, burning like a weight I couldn't ignore.

I'd tried all morning to transfer money to my mom, but it just wasn't happening.

Should I go to the bank?

By the time class ended, the sky was thick with clouds.

I pulled out my phone and typed a quick message to Lucas.

Lucy: Hey, I'll stop by your mom's place now.

I was pretty sure he sent that message yesterday as code for us to meet up. With the student reps watching us, we couldn't be too suspicious.

I hopped back on my moped and made my way across town.

The Whyte house stood unchanged. A simple two-story home with a small, overgrown garden and the quiet wear of a place that had seen both love and loss.

When I knocked, the door opened moments later, revealing Mrs. Whyte. Her sharp blue eyes softened with recognition.

"Lucy, dear? What brings you here?"

She had the same dark brunette hair as Charlie, the same warmth in her features that always made me feel like I belonged.

"Hello, Missus Whyte. Lucas mentioned he had something of mine here," I said.

Her expression melted into something tender, almost pitying.

"Oh, alright then, sweetheart. Please, come in. I'll make you some tea."

"Thank you," I murmured, stepping inside and slipping off my coat. The scent of the house welcomed me, clean and woodsy.

I made my way to the living room, where a small shrine for Charlie was tucked into the corner. His urn sat on a wooden table, surrounded by flickering candles, framed photos, and little trinkets of his favorite things. My chest tightened as I sat on the carpet before the shrine.

"Hey, Charlie," I murmured.

My fingers traced the edge of a picture frame — a photo of us. His arms were wrapped around me, his stupid, wide grin aimed at the camera. I could still hear his voice in my head, teasing, affectionate. And always so close.

A quiet ache spread through me.

I'd never properly mourned for my friend. It felt like I cried a lifetime's worth of tears that day he disappeared.

A moment later, Mrs. Whyte returned, pressing a warm cup into my hands.

"Still four sugars, right?"

"Yes, thank you, Missus Whyte."

She settled into the armchair across from me, cradling her own cup.

"How have you been, Lucy dear?"

I swallowed, offering a small smile.

"I'm managing. And you?"

She sighed, a weary but knowing sound.

"It comes and goes. Some days are easier than others."

"Yeah," I whispered.

We talked for a while — about the cold creeping in, how Lucas was doing with baseball, how her husband had taken to fishing alone more often. Normal things.

Then the front door opened.

Lucas stepped in, taking off his helmet and shaking his white hair free. His eyes landed on me almost instantly.

"Hey, Lucy."

"Hello, Lu."

His mother glanced between us before giving a knowing smile.

"I'll give you two a moment." She took my empty cup on her way to the kitchen, leaving us alone.

Lucas jerked his head toward the stairs.

"Let's head up."

I left my phone on the coffee table. So did he.

Upstairs, Charlie's room remained untouched. The walls were still filled with hundreds of Polaroids of us. I couldn't help but smile at each little moment I recognised.

I sat on his bed, running a hand over the dark sheets, the scent of dust and faded cologne lingering in the air. Lucas moved to Charlie's desk, his expression darkening as he powered on the computer and plugged in his USB.

The screen glowed.

"I went to Ashfield to confirm what this video is suggesting," Lucas said, his voice low. "And we have a worst-case scenario on our hands."

A chill traced down my spine. My heartbeat kicked up, each pulse heavy and uneven.

"Show me," I said.

He clicked on the video file. The screen flickered, grainy at first before sharpening into a cold, green-tinted night vision clip. The camera was fixed, its view locked on our run-down fort. Wind rustled the trees, their branches swaying like bony fingers.

Then... A figure emerged from the darkness.

My breath stilled.

Dressed in all black, hood up, they moved with a calm pace.

Then, as if sensing our gaze, they turned straight toward the camera.

I jerked back.

For a long, suffocating second, they just stared. Not moving, not speaking, their face hidden in the shadows. Then, slowly, they stepped closer and lifted a gloved hand, revealing a piece of paper.

My stomach lurched.

The note was typed in clear, bold letters.

Lucy killed Kevin Greenhill.

The blood drained from my face.

"Lucas... This person—"

"I know it's not true," my friend assured me immediately. "They're trying to frame you, and I don't know why."

My eyes locked onto the screen again.

The figure tilted their head, taking a step back, then raised their hand in a casual peace sign before slipping into the darkness.

My fingers trembled in my lap.

"I don't understand..." I whispered. "Any of this."

Lucas exhaled sharply.

"I think the stalker hates you. But it's not that simple... It's contradicting."

I swallowed, my throat tight.

"Then why ask me to break up with Jace if they hate me?" I whispered. "And why..."

I trailed off, a memory clawing its way back to the surface... Warm hands carrying me to bed, tucking me in like I was something precious.

None of it made sense.

"Like I said," Lucas murmured, his bleached hair casting sharp shadows over his narrowed eyes. "It's contradicting." He hesitated, then, carefully, "Which is why I've been thinking... New Hale's Ghost isn't just one person. What if Charlie's killer isn't one person either?"

My mouth parted.

That thought hadn't even crossed my mind.

"My original suspects were you, Bianca, and George," he continued. "I didn't think George was guilty since the test results showed Charlie had been drugged... but if he was working with someone..."

He turned to me, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Lucy, do you think Bianca and George are close?"

A sickening memory shoved its way to the surface.

Bianca and George going at it...

I'd tried my best to forget it.

"They... might be close," I admitted. "But it can't be them," I insisted. "Why would they want to frame me?"

Lucas didn't hesitate.

"Bianca has every reason to hate you. Her jealousy's been festering for years." His voice darkened. "As for George... I don't know. But I don't like the idea of you two alone. Has he ever done anything... off?"

I bit down on my tongue.

The rabbit with the hidden camera... The videos on his computer...

I clenched my hands together, suddenly too aware of Lucas watching me.

"I... I don't know." It was a weak response, and we both knew it.

Lucas' expression hardened. He stepped closer, then sat beside me. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, but it cut deeper.

"Lucy, please. Now is not the time to hold back. I've got a target on my back. Heather and Henry could decide I'm not worth the trouble at any moment. And before that happens... Before I die, I need to get this right. I need to send my brother's killer to prison."

Something in my chest twisted.

His pain. His desperation.

I swallowed, gripping my hands tighter.

"George wouldn't kill someone..." I swore. "And Bianca loved Charlie—"

Lucas grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to meet his eyes. His fingers were tense, his grip firm but not painful.

"Lucy." His voice was raw, urgent. "Please."

My pulse thundered.

I broke his gaze, staring down at my lap, my nails digging into my palms.

"George... might have given me a rabbit with a hidden camera," I admitted, my voice soft. "And I saw some... weird stuff on his computer."

Lucas went completely still.

Then his pupils thinned unnaturally.

"He did what?" His voice was quiet, but there was something lethal beneath it. "A camera?"

I nodded, my throat too tight to say it again.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, his hands flexing with restrained fury.

"And what was on his computer?"

I looked away.

I didn't want to say it.

"Lucy," he pressed, and before I could react, his hands cupped my face, tilting me toward him. His fingers were weirdly cold. "Tell me."

It felt harder to breathe.

Those blue eyes... I could never keep anything from them.

I swallowed.

"Just... weird videos of... stepsiblings doing stuff..."

Lucas didn't blink.

"Let me guess," he said, his tone razor-sharp. "Stepsister porn?"

I cringed, heat crawling up my neck as I shook free from his hands and looked away.

Lucas stood abruptly, running both hands through his messy hair as he paced, his breaths coming fast.

"That's..." He exhaled sharply, his jaw clenched tight. Then he stopped and turned back to me. "Were there any videos of you?"

"No."

"And has he ever done anything to you?"

"Never," I assured quickly. "I... I don't know why he had those things... or the rabbit... He likes Bianca, I think."

Lucas narrowed his eyes.

"Why do you say that?"

I hesitated.

"They... slept together."

Lucas took a step back like I'd just slapped him. His brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly as though struggling to process my words.

"How do you know?"

I swallowed hard.

"I... walked in on them."

His face twisted in disgust.

"Don't hang around those two anymore, Lucy," he said, his voice unusually firm. "I'm getting a terrible feeling... And now that I think about it, I haven't seen George around much lately. There's definitely something going on."

I fidgeted with the hem of my sleeve.

"I still don't think it's them..." My voice was quieter, unsure. "But I can't think of anyone else either. I just don't understand why this person wants to frame me."

Lucas sighed, stuffing his hand sin his pockets. His hoodie sleeves were rolled up as usual, and I stared at the dragon tattoo on his arm.

"Yeah. There's no way it's you," he said with conviction. "It has to be a setup. You already told me you never left your apartment that day. I believe you."

My heart dropped for a second.

I'd almost forgotten...

That dream.

That warped, hazy memory...

I had left my apartment that day.

I just... couldn't remember anything after.

A cold, creeping sensation spread through me.

Should I tell Lucas?

I bit my lip. He'd just assured me of my innocence. If I told him now, I'd throw myself right back under suspicion. I already knew it couldn't be me. Making Lucas suspicious again would just make things confusing. There was no way I would hurt Charlie.

Lucas let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his face. The dark circles under his eyes looked even worse than before.

"Now here's the problem," he muttered, shooting me a glance. "Kevin's body is gone."

My jaw dropped.

For a second, I thought I'd misheard him.

"What?"

Lucas plopped down on the desk chair, rubbing his temples like he had a headache.

"I pretended to bury Kevin at the fort and told you that was the location," he admitted. "But actually, I moved much deeper into the woods. Really far. I made sure to bury him somewhere discreet. No trails. No clues." He exhaled sharply. "But when I went to check yesterday... the spot was dug up."

My pulse thundered in my ears.

"The stalker?" I whispered.

"Obviously," Lucas muttered. "I just don't know how they found him. I know how to cover a damn trail. Unless they're some expert tracker I don't understand how it's possible..."

I shivered as goosebumps ran down my neck.

"Where's the body now?" I asked.

Lucas shrugged, chuckling in a manic kind of way.

"The stalker probably has it. And I'm guessing they'll stay true to their word." He met my gaze, his expression unreadable. "Either you break up with Jace, or the body turns up."

My heart wrenched.

No...

"But I don't want to break up," I said, the words spilling out before I could stop them.

Lucas let out a humorless laugh.

"Lucy, you can't date Jace from prison either," he said. "I have no idea what the stalker plans to do with the body, but I guarantee it'll point straight to you."

I swallowed hard, glancing down.

"I don't want to..."

"And I don't want to see you locked up," he said, watching me. "I don't want to do this alone."

A dull ache settled behind my eyes.

My thoughts tangled into impossible knots.

Why was this happening? What were we missing?

A knock at the door snapped me back to reality.

I looked up as Mrs. Whyte peeked in, her gentle smile belying the tension in the room. She held out my phone.

"Someone was calling you, Lucy dear."

I sat up quickly, taking the phone.

"Thank you, Missus Whyte," I smiled before pressing the device to my ear. "Hello?"

"Luce."

I blinked.

"Jace?"

"I finished up early," he said, casual and warm. "You still up for the date, right?"

"Y-yeah," I grinned. "I'll be home soon."

"'Alright, I'll see you in a bit."

The call ended and I lowered the phone slowly, my mind still stuck in the conversation with Lucas.

"I have to go," I said, turning to Lucas.

"That's okay," he said, getting up.

Greeting Mrs. Whyte, I walked with Lucas back outside. The air was cold and heavy with the promise of rain later.

"I think you know what to do, Lucy," my friend said, watching me carefully. "It's your choice, but I don't think it's worth the risk..."

I nodded.

I knew he was right...

But I didn't want to break up with Jace either.

"Be careful, Lucy," Lucas murmured, his voice softer now. Before I could react, he pulled me into a hug. "And don't tell anyone about the stalker..." he whispered quietly. "We can't be sure who it is, even if we think we know. So, it's important the information stays between us alone. The last thing we need is to get blindsided."

I let myself sink into his embrace.

"Okay..."

"Promise me," he whispered into my ear.

"I promise," I assured him.

I could feel some tension leaving his body as let go, handing me half a smile.

"Stay safe, Starling."

"You too, Lu."

He bit down on his lip as he watched me, contemplating his next words.

"If you're scared of being alone... I'm here," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "We're a team. Like old times. If you're only dating Jace because you don't want to be alone, you don't have to."

My chest ached. I forced a small smile.

"Thank you."

***

The cemetery was silent, save for the restless rustling of leaves and the occasional, distant chirp of a bird. Dusk was slowly approaching, the sun barely clinging to the horizon beneath a sky of thick clouds.

I walked beside Jace, a bouquet of roses in my hands while he carried two full bags, a breeze tugging at our coats.

Kneeling, I placed a bundle against the tombstone in front of me. My fingers lingered over the petals, tracing the delicate edges, but my mind was far away.

I could feel Jace's gaze on me.

"You've been quiet for a while," he finally said, his voice gentle but probing. "What's going on?"

I swallowed, glancing at him briefly before looking away.

"Nothing..."

He didn't buy it. I could tell by the way his brows pulled together, the slight shift in his stance as he stepped closer.

"What did Lucas want?"

I hesitated.

I could still hear Lucas' voice in my head, the urgency in it when he told me not to tell anyone about the stalker. And then I was reminded all over again about their threat...

Either I break up with Jace or risk Kevin's body incriminating me in some way.

I didn't know what to do.

I forced a small shrug.

"He asked if I wanted any of the pictures from Charlie's room."

Jace nodded slowly, waiting for me to go on. When I didn't, his frown deepened.

"And?"

"I didn't take any," I said simply.

His eyes studied me, sharp and assessing. I thought he might push, demand the truth, but instead, he exhaled and handed me another bundle of roses for the next grave.

"Lucy, if something's on your mind, just tell me."

I stiffened.

Though I was sure Jace could probably help, I'd already promised Lucas not to tell anyone about the things we knew. Besides, what if he told the student reps? And what if one of them was actually involved in all this? Even if Jace assured me none of them killed Charlie, I couldn't exactly rule out a group of murderers either.

My fingers curled into my coat sleeves, gripping the fabric tightly.

"I'm just..." I hesitated as the cold breeze wrapped around me, tugging at my dark hair. "I'm just worried about my family... I might have to go to the bank tomorrow. There's something faulty with my app."

"What's wrong?"

"It won't let me send money to my mom."

His lips curled into a smirk.

"Oh, that?" He chuckled. "I had Henry block transactions between your accounts."

The world seemed to slow.

My pulse slammed against my ribs as I turned to him.

"You what?"

Jace grinned, his eyes more reddish in the late sun. Amusement curled at the edges of his lips, but there was nothing warm about it.

"I was curious," he said smoothly. "Call it my own little experiment. I have a theory... I'm fairly certain your mother would try to kill you if you stopped paying her."

My breath stopped.

"How can you say that?" I gasped. "She would never—"

"Then what's the harm?" He chuckled, tilting his head as if he were explaining something obvious. "Let's just see."

"The harm is my family needs support," I snapped. My heart pounded, my grip tightening around the bouquet. "David is injured, and Mom is taking care of him. They need money to eat, Jace!"

"More like drink," he scoffed. "And if your stepfather is in such poor shape, I wonder why he's been spotted gambling."

I froze.

"That... has to be a mistake."

Jace let out a low, knowing hum.

"Wikus' father owns a few casinos. Your favorite greasy painter has seen your dearest stepfather more than once."

The air around us seemed colder. The sinking sun barely bled through the thick clouds, casting long, distorted shadows over the gravestones.

"He... They're desperate," I muttered, trying to reason. "If I can just support them, it'll be alright, and they don't have to resort to gambling..."

Jace smirked.

"Then let's make a bet."

A gust of wind whipped through the cemetery, stirring the dead leaves around our feet. I swallowed hard, my pulse drumming in my ears.

"What... bet?"

Jace stepped closer, lowering his voice.

"Stop paying them. Just for one month — until Christmas, let's say. If nothing happens, I swear I'll make sure they're taken care of after you die." His smirk deepened, something dark flickering in his eyes. "And I won't lay a single finger on them."

I stiffened.

"But... if they try to kill you?" He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against my chilled skin. "Then I'll kill them."

My heart dropped.

"That's a terrible bet," I whispered.

Jace shrugged, feigning innocence.

"Why? If you're so sure they love you, then where's the risk?"

I licked my lips, my throat dry.

"Or..." His voice was softer now, almost coaxing. "Are you admitting that you know they want you dead?"

I turned away sharply, focusing on the flowers, my fingers trembling as I placed another bundle against a grave.

"It's a terrible bet because I can't neglect them until Christmas," I said.

"It's just one month," Jace murmured behind me. "There's plenty of food in the house, and your stepfather doesn't need expensive meds. One month of discomfort in exchange for a lifetime of security. You know your life insurance isn't enough to keep them afloat forever."

My stomach twisted tighter.

He was right about that...

"One month is too long..." I whispered.

"I think you're just refusing because you know I'm right about them," he teased.

I turned sharply, my fists bundled at my sides as I stared up at him.

Sometimes Jace was so perfect. And other times he could be so terrible.

"You're wrong," I said firmly, my voice wavering just slightly. "I'll... I'll accept your bet."

His smirk returned.

"But promise me," I added, taking a step closer to him, wishing I didn't have to crane my neck so much to keep his gaze. "When I win... you won't hurt them. No matter what."

His eyes gleamed in the dying light.

"I promise," he said smoothly.

I looked down, staring at my boots.

This was the best insurance for my family. But I had the worst feeling about what I had just agreed to.

We finished placing the last of the roses in silence. The conversation had left a strange weight between us. I knew I should say something, lighten the mood, but nothing came.

Jace didn't seem particularly bothered. If anything, he looked amused, watching me out of the corner of his eye as we made our way back to his car.

"Dinner?" he asked as he started the engine.

I nodded, though I barely had an appetite.

The restaurant he chose was a small, dimly lit place not far from the cemetery. The smell of grilled meat and fresh bread filled the air, but the warm atmosphere did little to thaw the strange chill that settled into my bones.

Jace was relaxed, effortlessly charming as always, making casual comments about the menu, the other patrons, even the ridiculous Christmas decorations already being set up. I tried to match his energy, forcing small smiles, responding when necessary, but the awkwardness lingered.

After dinner, he drove me back to my apartment, the night dark and thick with the promise of rain. As he parked in front of my building, he turned to me.

"Want me to stay over?"

I shook my head.

"I should get some studying done," I said.

Jace hummed, watching me for a moment.

I reached for the door handle, ready to leave, but before I could, he caught my wrist, pulling me closer. My breath caught as he leaned in, pressing a kiss on my forehead.

When he pulled back, he was smiling.

"You've been over working that head of yours," he teased. "Let me do all the thinking, Luce."

Heat rushed to my face, the sudden intimacy throwing me off balance. He was always like this...

Unpredictable and calculated one moment, warm and affectionate the next.

It was impossible to keep up with.

I swallowed and tried my best to return a convincing smile.

"Goodnight, Jace."

"Sweet dreams, Luce."

With that, I got out. The night air was sharp, prickling against my skin as I made my way up the steps to my apartment.

I was still wondering about the stalker's ultimatum... Contemplating whether I could actually break up with Jace. Just as it felt like my thoughts had no end, something caught my eye.

There, waiting in front of my door was a familiar white box.

***