INICIAR SESIÓNWHITNEY.I cannot stop thinking about Ben Morgan.The moment I get home, I spread every piece of evidence across my bedroom floor again. The wooden box Carlos gave me sits open beside my bed, filled with old photographs, charity programs, newsletters, and handwritten notes. My notebook is open beside it, covered with dates, arrows, and questions that seem to multiply every day. I sit cross-legged on the floor for hours, reading everything again from the very beginning. This time, I am not looking for proof that Carlos or Jayden is guilty. I am simply looking for the truth.As I read through my notes, something hurts more than all the missing records and blacked-out reports.It is me.Page after page reminds me of the way I thought only a few weeks ago. Every note I wrote was filled with anger. Every question assumed Carlos was lying before he even answered. Whenever something did not fit my theory, I ignored it instead of asking why. I wanted revenge so badly that I stopped searching
CARLOSThe silence inside the study room feels heavier than ever. We keep staring at the empty space where page thirteen should have been, but no matter how long we look, it does not come back. That missing page feels like a hole in the middle of our investigation. I force myself to stop thinking about what is gone and focus on what we still have. Sometimes the answers are hidden in the details people ignore.I pull one of the volunteer schedules closer and begin reading every name again. Whitney and Devin are busy comparing attendance sheets, but I read each page slowly instead of rushing. The names start repeating until one suddenly catches my attention. My heart skips a beat. I know that name. I have not thought about it in years, but I know exactly who it belongs to."Wait," I say.Whitney looks up first."What is it?""I think we missed someone."Devin turns toward me."Who?"I point to the list with my finger."This person."Both of them lean closer.Whitney quietly reads the na
DEVIN.I stay hidden behind the old filing cabinets until every sound disappears. My legs ache from crouching, but I do not dare move too soon. Whoever came down here was looking for something, and I cannot risk walking straight into them. Nearly ten minutes pass before I finally gather enough courage to peek around the corner. The basement is empty again. I let out a slow breath, but my heart is still pounding as I unzip my jacket and carefully pull out the sealed envelope.I stare at it for a long moment."So this is what everyone has been hiding."The paper feels old and rough beneath my fingers. The seal is still almost perfect, making me wonder if I am the first person to touch it in years. My hands shake as I slowly break the seal. The sound of the paper tearing echoes through the silent room, making me jump even though I know I am alone. I quickly look around one more time before carefully reaching inside.The envelope is filled with documents.There are attendance sheets, volu
Whitney's POVI spend the entire school day watching the clock instead of the whiteboard. Every lesson feels twice as long because I cannot stop thinking about Devin's phone call. I found the missing week, he had said. Those words keep repeating in my head until I can barely focus on anything else. The moment the final bell rings, I grab my bag and hurry toward the library, where we agreed to meet in one of the private study rooms. My heart is beating so fast that I almost expect to hear it echo through the hallway.When I open the study room door, Devin is already there. He sits quietly on a chair, his arms folded tightly across his chest. His expression is everything but relaxed. The large table is covered with printed photographs, copied documents, handwritten notes, and Devin's laptop. It looks less like a school project and more like detectives trying to solve a crime that happened years ago."I came as fast as I could,” I say as I walk towards them.Devin gives me a small nod."
DEVIN.I cannot stop thinking about what Whitney told us yesterday. The moved notebook. The disappearing message. The man watching her from across the street. None of it feels random anymore. Every clue keeps pointing toward the same thing. Someone knows we are getting closer to the truth, and they are trying to scare us into giving up. That is exactly why I decide I cannot wait any longer.Instead of going home after school, I walk toward the old student activities building behind the gym. Most students never come here anymore because a newer office replaced it years ago. The windows are dusty, and the hallways smell like old paper and wood. I remember the elderly librarian once mentioning that some records were never moved when the school renovated the archives. It is a long shot, but right now every long shot matters.The front office is empty except for an old janitor pushing a mop across the floor. He looks up as I step inside."Can I help you?""I hope so," I say politely. "I'm
WHITNEYThe loud crash at the arena stays in my head long after Carlos and I leave that evening. We search every hallway together, even checking the locker room and the equipment storage, but we find nothing except a fallen metal cart lying on its side. Carlos says it could have fallen by itself, but neither of us truly believes that. I keep looking over my shoulder as I walk home, unable to shake the feeling that someone must have been following us. Even after I lock my bedroom door that night, I cannot sleep because every small sound makes my heart race.The next morning, I decide I am letting my imagination get the better of me. I tell myself that I am only nervous because everything I believed has fallen apart. Before leaving for school, I hide my investigation notebook beneath a stack of old textbooks inside my desk drawer. I know exactly where I leave it because I carefully line up the books before closing the drawer. It makes me feel a little better, as if I have protected the
"You have until the count of five to decide," he adds, and I still stubbornly hesitate.I was hoping I'd finally come up with a wise choice during his little counting spree, but the bastard completely catches me off guard.Sighing in resignation, he declares, "Five."Motherfucker didn't even count.
Two days ago, I meant it when I said I was starting over. For someone who's been so hellbent on getting revenge from the start, I think I'm doing pretty well at letting go so easily. Or that's what I like to believe.I've been so obsessed with finding justice for my friend to the extent that I forg
"What?" Ava's bewildered exclamation cuts me out of my trance. "Selective amnesia?""Yes," Dave affirms solemnly. "We are hoping he recovers from it soon."Disbelief courses through me as I process the bad news. God, I can't believe it.A tidal wave of disappointment crashes over me, washing away t
My heart pounds with both elation and relief on our ride to the hospital. Ava clearly shares my emotions, judging by the grin etched across her face as she navigates the road."I told you this would all be over soon, Whit. Now look— Fuck, I'm so happy." She blasts the horn by accident, prompting me







