chapter nine " soft hands, sharp heart "

It was late.

The library lights buzzed low overhead, casting warm gold shadows across the quiet corners of Brentford Academy. Helena sat curled on a leather couch, her fingers resting lightly on the page of a half-read history book.

But her eyes weren’t moving across the lines.

Because Greg Carter was sitting across from her—hands laced together, elbows on his knees, and a silence between them that felt… heavy.

And honest.

He had told her everything.

About Sophia.

About his father’s manipulation.

About the night Sophia disappeared and the voice in his head that had never stopped whispering:

You let her go.

“I didn’t know how to stop them,” Greg said, his voice rough, like it had been dragged over broken glass. “They wanted her quiet. She wanted justice. I just… froze.”

Helena studied him—really studied him. The boy who had once backed her into a wall. The boy who had blackmailed her, mocked her, haunted her every step.

But this version of him was different.

His voice cracked when he spoke about her.

His walls were slipping.

And in the hollowness behind his eyes, she saw it—guilt. Real. Crushing. Relentless.

“You’ve been carrying her ghost for years,” Helena said softly.

Greg looked up. “And then you showed up. Same eyes. Same stubborn heart. And I hated you for it.”

She smiled sadly. “Hated me, huh?”

He gave a weak laugh. “Wanted to, anyway.”

Silence again. But this time, warmer. Charged.

Greg’s gaze didn’t leave hers. Slowly, he reached out—his fingers brushed the side of her hand. A soft, unsure touch.

And Helena didn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“I know.”

His thumb traced a circle on her skin.

And then—

He leaned forward.

Their faces inched closer. Breath tangled. Eyes locked.

Helena’s heart raced. It didn’t feel like a trick. It didn’t feel like a lie. It felt…

Real.

But just as their lips brushed—

“Oh. Wow.”

They jerked apart.

Standing at the doorway was Theo, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, expression unreadable.

Helena stood quickly. “Theo—”

Greg shot up beside her. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Theo laughed—coldly. “It never is, is it?”

“Theo, wait—” Helena reached out, but he was already turning on his heel and walking away.

The door slammed behind him.

Greg muttered a curse and ran a hand through his hair.

“Well,” Helena sighed, heart still pounding, “that could’ve gone better.”

The Next Day — Brentford Auditorium

Posters littered the halls. Strings of silver and blue tinsel hung from lockers. The whispers around campus had shifted—from scandal to excitement.

WINTER GALA ANNOUNCED

Theme: A Night in Ice and Fire

Formal Dress Code. Couples Welcome.

Helena stood at her locker, barely looking up as students buzzed past with excitement.

Greg appeared beside her.

She expected a smug smile. A joke. But instead, he simply asked:

“Would you go with me?”

Helena blinked. “What?”

“To the gala,” he said. “With me.”

She stared at him. “Seriously?”

“No blackmail. No tricks. Just… asking.”

Her heart leapt—then hesitated. “Greg, we’re still in the middle of a war. Someone’s watching us, threatening us. This isn’t just glitter and music anymore.”

“I know,” he said. “But maybe… we deserve one night to feel normal.”

She didn’t answer right away.

But deep down… she wanted that.

Even if it might be a mistake.

Even if it might burn everything down.

Finally, she nodded.

“Okay.”

Greg smiled—and for once, it reached his eyes.

Cliffhanger Ending

Across the school quad, Bianca leaned against the fountain, her red nails tapping at her phone screen.

She’d heard everything.

Seen everything.

And she wasn’t done.

Not even close.

Her screen lit up with a message.

Anonymous: The gala’s perfect. One move, and we expose everything.

She smirked.

Bianca: Make it messy. I want her broken.

She looked up—just as Helena and Greg walked past, laughing like nothing in the world could touch them.

But the countdown had already begun.

And this time, Helena wouldn’t see it coming.

Later that evening, Helena stood in front of her mirror in the dorm, still in her uniform, staring at her reflection like she didn’t recognize the girl anymore.

This Helena wasn’t just the scholarship girl. Or the girl caught in Greg Carter’s scandal. Or even the girl they whispered about in the hallways.

She was something else now.

A girl who had kissed the edge of danger… and found warmth in the very person who once made her bleed.

Her phone buzzed.

Tessy: Are you okay? I saw Theo storm out earlier. Looked like he was ready to punch something.

Helena hesitated, then typed back:

Helena: I’ll explain later. Things are complicated.

Tessy: Since when are things with Greg not complicated?

Helena managed a dry smile.

The door creaked open. Greg stepped in, slower than usual, his presence quieter than she was used to. No swagger. No charm.

Just… him.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he said softly. “Not now. Not with everything going on.”

Helena turned toward him. “You didn’t kiss me. We kissed each other.”

He nodded once. “Still feels selfish.”

Helena folded her arms. “Do you regret it?”

His eyes met hers. “No. That’s the problem.”

Silence again. That unspoken, crackling space between them that never quite stayed empty.

“I said yes to the gala,” she said, surprising even herself.

Greg blinked. “You sure?”

“No.” She stepped forward. “But I want to be.”

A flicker of a smile touched his lips.

Elsewhere — The Girls’ Dorm Balcony

Bianca watched them from her window with cold eyes.

She sipped from her champagne tumbler, lips painted blood-red, her phone already open to a new group chat: “Gala Games 🎭”

Inside were photos. Edits. Plans. One click from destruction.

But she didn’t press send.

Not yet.

Because the sweetest destruction took patience.

And Bianca had perfected the art of slow ruin.

She tapped a final message into her phone:

Bianca: Let her wear the dress. Let her smile. I want her to feel everything—before I take it all.

She sent it.

Then set her alarm.

The gala was two nights away.

And it would be unforgettable.

Final Scene – The Dress

Tessy stood in front of a black velvet dress bag. Inside was a gown she’d picked out for Helena weeks ago—before the rumors, before the heartbreak, before the war.

She knocked on Helena’s door.

When it opened, Tessy didn’t say a word.

She just handed the bag over.

“I know things are a mess,” Tessy said. “But you deserve to be seen. To feel like the fire you are.”

Helena unzipped the bag—and gasped softly.

The gown was deep red. Sharp-cut. Elegant. Like danger wrapped in silk.

It looked like something a queen would wear to battle.

And suddenly, she wasn’t afraid anymore.

Not of Bianca.

Not of the rumors.

Not even of falling for Greg.

Because now she understood:

She could bleed and still be dangerous.

She could be soft—and still survive.

Cliffhanger Ending (Expanded)

Back across campus, in the unused AV club room, an anonymous figure edited a clip on their laptop. Shadows flickered on the screen—Helena’s laugh, Greg’s hand in hers, whispers too faint to make out.

They smiled coldly.

A note was already printed and ready—sealed in an envelope with Helena’s name on it.

The message inside?

“Sophia was warned too.”

The envelope was slipped under Helena’s dorm door.

And the screen behind them continued to play footage that hadn’t yet seen the light of day.

But would.

Soon.