LOGINAurora didn’t speak.She just looked at him.At Adrian.And for the first time—there was something in her eyes that had never been there before.Suspicion.Real.Unfiltered.Dangerous.Adrian saw it.Of course he did.His jaw tightened slightly.“…what are you thinking?”Aurora didn’t answer immediately.Because the message was still echoing—Look at who you trusted the most.Her fingers curled slowly around the phone.Then—she asked.Quiet.Direct.“Who knew my room code?”Silence.Adrian didn’t react at first.But his eyes—shifted.That was enough.Aurora noticed.“Answer me.”Her voice dropped.Colder now.Adrian exhaled slowly.“Only a few people.”Aurora took a step closer.“Names.”Adrian held her gaze.“You.”A pause.“Me.”Another pause.“Daniel.”Silence.Aurora’s chest tightened.Daniel.Again.Her mind replayed everything.The call.The timing.The silence.The help.Too much help.Aurora’s voice came out lower.Sharper.“Who else?”Adrian hesitated.Just for a second.T
Aurora didn’t blink.She couldn’t.Because the moment she said—“…that’s me.”—everything stopped making sense.And at the same time—everything started making too much sense.Adrian’s voice came sharp—“That’s not you.”Aurora didn’t respond.Her eyes stayed locked on the screen.On the figure.On herself.Because now—she could see it.Not just the face.Not just the shape.The details.The way she stood.The way her hand moved slightly.The way her head tilted—exactly the same way Aurora did when she was thinking.“It is.”Her voice came out low.Certain.Adrian stepped closer.“That’s a recording.”Aurora shook her head slowly.“No.”A pause.“It’s not just a recording.”Her fingers tightened around the phone.“That’s me… before.”Silence.Adrian frowned.“What does that mean?”Aurora didn’t answer immediately.Because something inside her—was unlocking.A memory.Not clear.Not complete.But enough.Enough to feel it.Enough to recognize it.Aurora stepped closer to the mirror.
Aurora didn’t wait.Not this time.The moment Adrian said—“They’re in your room.”—something inside her snapped into action.She turned.Started walking.Fast.Adrian followed immediately.Victor didn’t stop them.Didn’t interfere.He just watched—like he already knew what they were about to find.—The car ride felt too slow.Too quiet.Aurora’s fingers rested on her knee—but they weren’t still.A subtle rhythm.Controlled.Focused.Because her mind—was moving faster than everything else.“If someone is in my room…”A pause.“…then they’re looking for something.”Adrian’s voice came low.“Or leaving something.”Aurora’s eyes flickered slightly.That possibility—was worse.Much worse.—The gates opened.The car didn’t stop completely.Aurora stepped out before it could.Adrian was right behind her.The house stood ahead.Same as before.But now—it felt different.Not safe.Not familiar.Occupied.—The front door was open.Just slightly.Aurora slowed.Just for a second.Her in
Aurora didn’t react.Not immediately.Because her mind—stopped.It came from inside your house.The words didn’t just hit.They echoed.Loud.Relentless.Impossible to ignore.“That’s not possible.”Her voice came out low.But it lacked certainty now.Victor didn’t argue.Didn’t push.He simply said—“Check the timestamp.”Aurora’s fingers tightened slowly.Her gaze flicked toward Adrian.Then back to Victor.“What are you saying?”Victor stepped closer.Not threatening.Not aggressive.Just… certain.“I’m saying…”A pause.“…you never left home that night.”Silence.Heavy.Unstable.Aurora’s breath caught.“No.”Her voice was sharper now.“That’s wrong.”Victor didn’t blink.“Then explain the signal.”Aurora’s mind raced.Signal.Call.Location.She turned instantly—looked at Adrian.“Can you verify it?”Adrian didn’t hesitate.He pulled out his phone.Fast.Focused.Called someone.“Now.”His tone left no room for delay.Aurora watched him.Every second stretching.Her heartbeat s
Aurora didn’t move.Her hand was still on the door handle.But her eyes—locked on the screen.“Don’t trust Vanessa.”One line.No name.No explanation.But it hit harder than everything before.Because now—even the truth was splitting.Adrian noticed.“What is it?”Aurora didn’t answer.Not immediately.Her mind was already racing.Fast.Sharp.Connecting everything again.Vanessa knew.Vanessa told her part of the truth.Vanessa hid something.And now—someone was warning her.Aurora slowly lowered her hand from the door.Turned back.Her expression unreadable.“Someone doesn’t want me to trust her.”Adrian’s eyes narrowed.“Who?”Aurora held up the phone.“Unknown number.”Adrian stepped closer.Took the phone.Looked at the message.His jaw tightened.“This isn’t random.”Aurora didn’t respond.Because she already knew that.Nothing about this was random anymore.Adrian handed the phone back.“Trace it.”Aurora didn’t move.Her eyes still on the message.“It’s already gone.”Adri
The page turned.Slow.Deliberate.Aurora didn’t rush it.She wanted him to see it.Clearly.Completely.No escape.Adrian’s eyes moved across the paper.Then stopped.And for a split second—something in his expression broke.Not fully.But enough.Aurora saw it.That flicker.That hesitation.That was all she needed.“Say it.”Her voice was low.Controlled.“What is it?”Adrian didn’t answer immediately.Because the name staring back at him—wasn’t supposed to be there.Aurora stepped closer.Her eyes locked on his.“You didn’t expect that, did you?”Silence.Adrian’s jaw tightened.His gaze dropped back to the page.Then—he said it.“…that’s not possible.”Aurora let out a quiet breath.Almost like she expected that.“It is.”She reached forward.Tapped the paper lightly.“That’s the call log.”A pause.“Timestamp. Location. Source.”Adrian’s grip on the file tightened.“That can’t be right.”Aurora’s eyes darkened.“But it is.”Silence stretched.Heavy.Dangerous.Adrian looked u







