CHAPTER 4:THE NIGHT SHE LIED

I stared at the message until the words blurred.

Ask Aria what she did that night.

My fingers tightened around my phone.

What had Aria done?

And why would a stranger know something about Blake's past?

I wanted to believe it was all a lie.

I wanted to throw my phone away and forget I'd ever seen the messages.

But there was one problem.

I couldn't stop thinking about the photograph.

Blake.

That woman.

And the way he'd looked at me when I'd caught him on the phone.

He had been afraid.

Not annoyed.

Not angry.

Afraid.

I slipped my phone into my pocket and walked downstairs.

The house was quiet.

I found Aria in the living room, curled up on the sofa with a blanket around her.

She looked up.

"Chloe? What's wrong?"

I stopped.

For a moment, I almost asked her.

What happened three years ago?

But something held me back.

If someone was trying to manipulate me, I didn't want them to know it was working.

So instead, I sat beside her.

"Nothing."

Aria studied my face.

"You look like something happened."

"I'm just tired."

She nodded, but she didn't look convinced.

Then her phone vibrated.

She glanced at the screen.

Her face immediately changed.

"Who's that?"

"No one."

I almost laughed.

Apparently, everyone in this house had suddenly learned how to lie.

Aria stood and walked toward the kitchen.

I watched her disappear.

Then my own phone buzzed.

I looked down.

Unknown Number:

You should have asked her.

Another message appeared.

But if you want the truth, go upstairs.

My heart began pounding.

Blake's room.

I stared at the message.

Why would there be anything in Blake's room?

I knew I shouldn't go.

But curiosity won.

---

Blake's bedroom was at the end of the hallway.

I stood outside his door for several seconds before turning the handle.

Unlocked.

I stepped inside.

The room smelled faintly like his cologne.

I immediately felt guilty for noticing.

"Get it together, Chloe."

I closed the door behind me.

The room was surprisingly neat.

A bed.

A desk.

A few books.

A black watch sitting beside a lamp.

Nothing strange.

I checked the desk.

Nothing.

Then I noticed a drawer that wasn't completely closed.

I pulled it open.

Inside was a small black box.

My heart raced.

I opened it.

There were photographs.

Old ones.

Blake when he was younger.

Aria.

Their parents.

Then I saw her.

The woman from the mall.

My breathing stopped.

She was standing beside Blake.

But they weren't alone.

There was another person in the picture.

A girl.

I picked it up.

I didn't recognize her.

On the back, there was a date.

Three years ago.

And beneath it, handwritten words:

The night everything changed.

My fingers trembled.

I looked through the other photographs.

There were more.

Blake arguing with someone.

Aria crying.

Their parents standing outside what looked like a hospital.

And then—

A photograph of Blake holding the hand of the unknown girl.

My heart sank.

What had happened?

I turned the photograph over.

There were four words written on the back.

She wasn't supposed to survive.

I dropped it.

"What the hell?"

A sound came from behind me.

The door clicked shut.

I spun around.

Blake stood there.

His expression was unreadable.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then his eyes moved to the photographs scattered across his desk.

His face went pale.

"Chloe."

I stepped backward.

"You lied to me."

His jaw tightened.

"Get out of my room."

"No."

"Chloe, please."

"Who is she?"

He said nothing.

"The girl in the photographs. Who is she?"

His eyes hardened.

"You don't understand."

"Then make me understand."

He walked toward me.

I backed away.

"Three years ago," I said, "what happened?"

He stopped.

Something flickered across his face.

Pain.

Real, unmistakable pain.

"You need to leave."

"No."

"Chloe."

"Was she your girlfriend?"

Silence.

My chest tightened.

"Was she?"

"Yes."

The word barely left his mouth.

I nodded slowly.

"So that's what you were hiding."

"It's not that simple."

"Then what is it?"

He looked away.

I picked up the photograph again.

"Why did you write that she wasn't supposed to survive?"

Blake's expression changed.

"Where did you get that?"

"Your drawer."

He stared at me.

Then suddenly, he grabbed my wrist.

Not hard.

Just enough to stop me.

"You shouldn't have found this."

I looked down at his hand.

Then up at him.

"Why?"

He released me immediately.

"I'm sorry."

His voice was softer now.

"I didn't mean—"

"Blake."

He looked at me.

"Tell me the truth."

He took a slow breath.

"The girl in that picture..."

He stopped.

My heart hammered.

"Who is she?"

Before he could answer, we heard footsteps outside.

Aria.

Blake's eyes widened.

"Put the photographs back."

"What?"

"Now."

I quickly placed them inside the drawer.

The door handle moved.

Blake grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the closet.

"What are you doing?"

"Trust me."

The door opened.

Aria walked inside.

I held my breath from inside the darkness.

Blake stood in front of the desk.

"Aria?"

She stared at him.

"Where is Chloe?"

"I don't know."

"You were with her."

"Not anymore."

Aria stepped closer.

"I know you're lying."

Silence.

Then she said something that made my blood run cold.

"Blake, she knows about the accident."

My eyes widened.

Blake went completely still.

"What?"

"I saw her going into your room."

A pause.

Then Aria whispered—

"She knows about the night we almost killed her."

I covered my mouth to stop myself from gasping.

Blake stared at Aria.

And then he said the words that shattered everything I thought I knew.

"Aria..."

His voice trembled.

"We didn't almost kill her. We did."