Chapter 2: The Things Nobody Knows

There are things about me that people know.

And there are things about me that they never will.

I learned that distinction when I was young.

Hindi naman ako ipinanganak na may alam kung paano magsinungaling. Nobody is. We learn it slowly, usually because we realize that telling the truth doesn't always give us what we want.

For some people, lying is a way to protect themselves.

For me, it became something else.

It became a habit.

Then a skill.

And eventually, it became the easiest way to survive.

I wasn't raised in a terrible family. Hindi ako lumaki sa isang bahay na puro sigawan, violence, or hatred. In fact, from the outside, the Gray family looked perfectly normal.

We had a beautiful house.

A comfortable life.

Parents who made sure we had everything we needed.

Ava, my older sister, was the kind of daughter every parent could be proud of. She was warm, responsible, affectionate, and naturally caring. She remembered birthdays, called Mom whenever she was away, and somehow always knew when someone needed comfort.

Then there was me.

I was quiet.

Not shy, exactly.

I just didn't feel the need to talk when I had nothing interesting to say.

When I was seven, Mom once asked me why I didn't cry when our neighbor's dog died.

I remember looking at her while she waited for my answer.

I didn't understand what she wanted me to say.

So I said, "I'm sad."

She hugged me immediately.

I hugged her back because that was what people did when someone was sad.

That was probably the first time I realized something important.

Sometimes, you don't have to feel something to make people believe that you do.

As I grew older, I became better at it.

I learned when to smile.

When to laugh.

When to look worried.

When to lower my voice.

When to cry.

I studied people the way other students studied for exams.

I watched their reactions.

Their expressions.

Their habits.

The way they talked when they were nervous.

The way they avoided eye contact when they lied.

The way their voices changed when they were scared.

People revealed so much without realizing it.

And once you understood them, it became surprisingly easy to control them.

But I never thought of myself as evil.

At least, not in the way people usually imagined evil.

I didn't wake up every morning thinking about hurting someone.

I didn't walk around looking for victims.

I didn't hate people.

If anything, I found them fascinating.

Human beings were complicated creatures. They could love someone deeply and still lie to them. They could promise forever and leave the next morning. They could cry over a person they had spent years hurting.

People contradicted themselves all the time.

I simply learned how to recognize those contradictions.

Maybe that's why I never understood why people were so afraid of monsters.

Monsters were honest about what they were.

People weren't.

"Dahlia."

Sienna's voice pulled me back to reality.

I blinked.

We were sitting inside one of the university's small cafés, and she was staring at me with her eyebrows raised.

"You've been quiet for like five minutes."

"Have I?"

"Yes." She pushed her iced coffee toward me. "Try this."

I took a sip.

"Too sweet."

She gasped dramatically.

"Excuse me? It's perfect."

"You put three pumps of syrup."

"Exactly. That's why it's perfect."

I smiled.

Sienna was easy to understand.

She was loud when she was happy, quiet when she was upset, and completely incapable of hiding what she felt.

People like Sienna made life simple.

Maybe that's why I kept her around.

She rested her chin on her hand.

"So..." she started.

I already knew where this was going.

"Don't."

"I haven't even asked anything."

"Your face did."

She laughed.

"Okay, fine. Max."

I sighed.

"What about him?"

"Who is he?"

"Someone from university."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Then why does he keep looking at you?"

I glanced toward the café entrance.

Max wasn't there.

"Maybe he recognizes me."

"Girl, he's been looking at you since we entered the building."

I shrugged.

"Maybe I'm pretty."

Sienna burst out laughing.

"There she is."

I smiled.

She knew I was joking.

Or at least, she thought I was.

The truth was, I knew exactly why Max was looking at me.

He was curious.

And curiosity was dangerous.

Not because curious people were difficult to manipulate.

But because they were difficult to predict.

My phone vibrated.

I looked down.

A message from Max.

Max: You still have my umbrella.

I stared at it for a moment.

Then typed.

Me: I know.

Max: You could return it.

Me: You could ask nicely.

A few seconds passed.

Max: Please return my umbrella, Dahlia.

I smiled.

Me: Better.

Sienna leaned closer.

"Is that him?"

I locked my phone.

"No."

She laughed.

"You are such a liar."

I looked at her.

"Maybe."

She shook her head.

"Anyway, we're going to the library after this, right?"

"Sure."

We finished our drinks and headed toward the library.

I tried not to think about Max.

I failed.

There was something about him that bothered me.

He wasn't openly suspicious.

He wasn't following me.

He wasn't asking too many questions.

But he watched.

And sometimes, the quiet ones were the most dangerous.

By the time we reached the library, Sienna had already forgotten about him.

I hadn't.

I noticed Max sitting alone near the windows.

A book was open in front of him, but he wasn't reading.

He was looking outside.

At first, I thought he hadn't noticed us.

Then he turned.

Our eyes met.

Again.

I hated how easily he found me.

Sienna whispered, "There he is."

"I see him."

"Are you going to talk to him?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to."

She gave me a suspicious look but didn't argue.

We found a table on the opposite side of the room.

I opened my laptop.

Tried to focus.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

I felt his gaze again.

I finally looked up.

Max was watching me.

This time, he smiled.

I didn't.

Instead, I closed my laptop.

"I'll be back."

Sienna looked up.

"Where are you going?"

"Bathroom."

It was another lie.

I walked toward the exit instead.

I didn't need to talk to him.

I wanted to know why he was watching me.

There was a difference.

I found him outside the library.

He was leaning against the wall, hands inside his pockets.

"Looking for me?"

His expression didn't change.

"Maybe."

"That's not an answer."

"Neither was your bathroom excuse."

I smiled slightly.

"You caught me."

"I did."

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he looked at the umbrella hanging from my arm.

"You really like that thing."

"It's yours."

"Exactly."

I held it out.

He took it.

Our fingers brushed again.

This time, he didn't move away immediately.

"You didn't sleep much last night," he said.

I looked at him.

"How would you know?"

"You look tired."

"I am."

"Bad night?"

I smiled.

"Not really."

His eyes stayed on mine.

"That's interesting."

"What is?"

"You always smile when you don't want to answer something."

My expression didn't change.

But inside, something shifted.

Most people noticed my smile.

Max noticed when I used it as a shield.

I tilted my head.

"And you always analyze people?"

"Only when they're interesting."

There was that word again.

Interesting.

I stepped closer.

"Careful, Max."

"Why?"

"People usually regret being too curious."

He smiled.

"Maybe I'm willing to take the risk."

I stared at him.

For the first time, I wasn't sure whether he was flirting with me or warning me.

Maybe both.

I eventually smiled.

"Then that's your problem."

I walked past him and returned to the library.

But as I sat down, I realized something I didn't want to admit.

Max Holland wasn't trying to uncover my secrets yet.

He was simply trying to understand me.

And somehow, that felt much more dangerous, because secrets are easy to protect when people are looking for evidence.

They're harder to protect when someone is simply trying to understand the person behind them.

And Max was getting closer.

Not to the truth.

Not yet.

But to me.

And I wasn't sure which one would be worse.