Chapter 16: Morning Surprises

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• The One I Can't Escape   Chapter 53: The Dinner Table

  He doesn’t look at me. His eyes are on the lockers behind her. On the floor. Anywhere but me.“It’s better this way,” he says, flat and hollow. “For both of us.”I swallow hard, but it sticks in my throat.Samantha stares at him, then turns to me. “Is this true? Are you okay with this?”I want to scream no. I want to ask why—even though I already know.Because it’s safer for him this way. Or maybe for me. Or maybe for both of us, if what i fear about Isabella is true.Samantha narrows her eyes and steps closer, her arms still crossed tightly.“As far as I know, your relationship was fine not that long ago. Solid, even,” she says sharply, looking first at me, then at Oliver. “So what is it, Oliver? You’re the one who just said you’re ending it. Is it infidelity? Lack of respect? Or did you just wake up one morning and decide you were bored?”Oliver’s jaw tightens. His fingers twitch at his sides.But he doesn’t answer.Samantha scoffs. “Seriously? You can’t even give me a reason?”She

• The One I Can't Escape   Chapter 52: Curtain Cracks

  The next morning, the air feels damp and heavy, like the sky itself is holding its breath.I skip my first class and wander across campus until I find myself at the lake—the one tucked behind the library, quiet and forgotten, except by people like us. The misfits. The thinkers. The ones with too much on their minds.Jace is already there when I arrive, slouched against the bench with his hood up. He’s tossing pebbles into the lake, watching the ripples stretch and break.Lea joins minutes later, coffee in hand, headphones looped around her neck like a crown she forgot to wear. She doesn’t say anything as she sits on the grass, just hums softly, like she already knows today won’t be kind.I ease down beside them, grab a pebble, and flick it across the surface.It skips twice before sinking.Then I say it.“My dad proposed last night.”Jace’s head snaps toward me.Lea’s coffee sloshes in her hand.“What?” she blurts, eyes wide. “You’re kidding.”I shake my head.“She said yes,” I add, v

• The One I Can't Escape    Chapter 51: Champagne Promises and Poisoned Smiles

  Isabella beams at me like I’m supposed to clap.My hands stay at my sides.Oliver lifts the glass to his lips, watching me from over the rim. His eyes don’t betray a thing.“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Dad says with a nervous chuckle. “But this is good news. We’re finally moving forward.”Forward?Is this what forward looks like?I want to yell. I want to beg him to stop—to look past her lipstick and lies, to see what we’ve all missed.But instead, I nod slowly. Like a good son. Like someone who doesn’t have a folder full of surveillance photos hidden under his bed.“Congrats,” I manage.He pulls Isabella in closer. “Thank you, son. That means the world.”She leans her head on his shoulder, her red nails gleaming in the light.My stomach turns.“I think we should celebrate tonight,” Dad adds, clinking his glass with hers. “Something simple. Just us. A real family evening.”Family.I feel the word slice through me.Oliver finally steps forward, eyes still on me. “You in?” he asks, v

• The One I Can't Escape   Chapter 50: Tangled Loyalties

  Oliver is sincere.Oliver loves me.He’d never hurt me.That’s what I keep telling myself—again and again—until the words start to sound like a prayer. Or a lie I’m desperate to believe.I told myself that all night, lying in bed with the weight of his confession pressing on my chest. I told myself that when I woke up this morning and stared into the bathroom mirror, barely recognizing the person looking back.And I’m still telling myself that now, as I step through the university gates, headphones in, hoodie pulled low like I can hide from everything—even my own thoughts.But fate doesn’t give me a break. Not even for a second.Because the moment I round the corner of the main building, I see them.Jace and Lea.Waiting.Like they knew I’d pass by this exact spot at this exact moment.Jace moves first, stepping into my path with the urgency of someone who hasn’t slept either.“He told me,” he says, his eyes sharp and serious. “Oliver. He told me everything. Or… what he wanted me to k

• The One I Can't Escape   Chapter 49: Through the Lens

  I stand frozen, breath caught in my throat, the photo still clutched in my hand as Isabella disappears into the night.A part of me wants to follow her—right now, right this second.But something anchors me in place.The photo.That smile.That girl.And the undeniable fact that Oliver kept it hidden.I lower the picture slowly, glance at his desk, and that’s when I see it—a shoebox, tucked just beneath the edge of the bookshelf, half-buried under an old hoodie.I hesitate only a second before crouching and pulling it out.The lid isn’t taped. Just gently resting on top like someone planned to come back for it soon.I open it.And everything changes.Inside are more photos.Stacks of them.Some printed in color, some in grainy black-and-white, like they were taken from surveillance footage or grainy websites. Most of them show Isabella—at different ages, with different hair colors,. Sometimes smiling, sometimes crying, sometimes unrecognizable under heavy makeup.But it’s her. Over an

• The One I Can't Escape   Chapter 48: Under the Surface

  By the time I leave the café, the world outside feels… wrong.Too bright. Too loud. Too normal.Lea’s words follow me like a shadow. I knew she wasn't someone clear, but I can’t shake. She’s so dangerous. He’s in serious danger.The taxi ride home is a blur. I don’t remember the driver’s face or the way the city crawled past the window. All I can think about is that string of headlines. Those dead men. The name Isabella D. Rivers printed clearly under the insurance record. And my father—oblivious, kind, vulnerable—caught in the middle of it all.When I finally reach the house, the gate creaks open with its usual whine, but it sounds almost… foreboding today.The living room lights are on.I take a breath and step inside.And there they are.Dad and Isabella.Sitting on the couch like nothing in the world could touch them. She’s curled into his side, red nails stroking the back of his hand in lazy circles. He’s smiling softly at something she just said. The kind of smile I haven’t seen