Dirty Little Secrets のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 70

SUMMER'S POVThe music lounge felt smaller than usual. The heavy oak door was pulled shut, isolating the six of us in a room that suddenly felt devoid of oxygen.A week had passed since Lydia appeared at the school, and somehow, she had woven herself into my daily routine like an old friend. She was polite, attentive, and soft-spoken—the kind of girl who made you feel guilty for ever doubting her intentions. But standing in this room with everyone gathered around the central table, the air vibrated with an unspoken, suffocating tension."So, for the vocal analysis section," Felix started, leaning back in his chair with his ankles crossed over the glass coffee table, completely oblivious to the quiet war brewing around him. "I vote we let the experts handle the actual singing parts. Kingsley and Summer take the lead on the arrangements, and the rest of us pull the research. Sound like a plan?""I think that’s a wonderful idea, Felix," Lydia said smoothly.She was sitting right next to

KINGSLEY'S POVThe air in the restaurant became cold all of a sudden. One second, Summer was looking at me with a soft, hesitant warmth; the next, the color drained completely from her face. Her breath hitched, her fingers went rigid, and she stared down at her phone like it was a venomous snake about to strike."Summer?" I reached across the table, my brow furrowing as I tracked the sudden terror paralyzing her features. "What is it? What's wrong?"Instead of answering, she slowly turned the screen toward me. Her hand was shaking so badly the device rattled against the wooden tabletop.I leaned in, my eyes scanning the illuminated display. It was a photo of our table, shot from a low, angled perspective under the dim restaurant lighting. My hand was wrapped tightly around hers, capturing the exact intimate moment we had shared just seconds ago.My blood ran instantly cold. My jaw tightened so hard my teeth ached."Someone's here," Summer whispered, her voice trembling as her wide, pa

SUMMER'S POVThe afternoon sun filtered through the tall, arched windows of Kingsley's living room, casting warm, golden rectangles across the polished hardwood floor. I sat on the edge of the plush, cream-colored sofa, holding a porcelain teacup that Eleanor had handed me just a few minutes ago."More tea, dear?" Eleanor asked, offering a gentle, maternal smile as she settled into the armchair across from me. Her demeanor was a far cry from the stressed, terrified woman I had encountered at the hospital months ago. Being away from the toxic orbit of Mr. Roberts seemed to have breathed a fragile peace back into her life."No, thank you, Eleanor. I'm quite good," I replied politely, offering a small smile of my own.I checked my watch for the third time in five minutes. Kingsley was supposed to be back downstairs by now. He had run up to his room to grab his car keys and a light jacket for our afternoon date, but he had managed to get himself thoroughly sidetracked—likely by a misplace

KINGSLEY'S POVThe city lights blurred into long, bleeding streaks of neon and amber against my windshield as I drove. I didn't have a destination. I didn't care where I was heading. I just needed to put as much distance as possible between myself and the club, between myself and the heartbreaking image of Summer wrapped in Jake's arms.Every time I closed my eyes, even for a split second, I saw it: Jake's hands gripping her jacket, Summer's frozen expression, her hesitation when I demanded an explanation. It cut deeper than any physical blow ever could.After driving endlessly through the winding, rain-washed streets of the city, my tires finally slowed to a halt outside a low-lit, nondescript neighborhood bar. The place looked dingy, smelling faintly of stale beer, old wood, and bad decisions—the exact kind of place I would normally never set foot in. Perfect. It matched the hollow, rotting feeling inside my chest.I killed the engine, shoved the door open, and stepped out into the

CLYDE'S POVThe fluorescent lights of the university library hummed a low, droning note that felt entirely too loud inside my head. I stared down at the open pages of my political science textbook, tracking the same paragraph for the fourth time. The words just blurred together into an unreadable gray block.I wasn't reading. I was hiding.Ever since that afternoon outside her house—ever since Kevin dropped that toxic bomb about the locked room upstairs and the brother I was apparently built to replace—I hadn't been able to look Gabrielle in the eye. My phone had been buzzing with her texts and missed calls for forty-eight hours straight, but every time her name flashed across the screen, my chest tightened with a suffocating mix of anger and betrayal. A placeholder. A key. The phrases echoed on loop in my mind.A sharp, deliberate cough sounded from the aisle right beside my desk.I froze, my grip tightening around my highlighter. I forced my eyes upward, slowly raising my head from