I couldn't stop thinking about the letter.
And I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that my mom had hidden it from me for years.
"Protect him. Protect Elena too."
The words echoed in my mind. The more I tried to make sense of them, the more they twisted into something darker, more dangerous.
And as much as I tried to focus on my schoolwork, every glance at Jace in the hallways felt like a puzzle piece waiting to fall into place. He knew something. He had to.
The next day, I met him behind the gym again. This time, I didn't wait for him to speak first.
"I found another letter," I said, pushing it into his hands.
His eyes flickered down to it, then back to me. "You shouldn't be digging into this anymore."
"I already know too much to stop," I said, voice steady but my heart racing. "Tyler knew about me. He said protect me. Why?"
Jace clenched his fists at his sides, looking almost like he was about to shout. But then, as if forcing himself to calm down, he took a deep breath.
"He thought you were in danger. My dad…" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "He didn't know who to trust. Not even my mom. He tried to keep you and your mom safe without anyone knowing. But things went wrong. And now, everything's out of control."
I felt my pulse quicken. "What went wrong? What happened?"
Jace met my gaze, his jaw tightening. "I don't know all of it. But I do know this — someone's still watching us. And they're not going to stop until they bury everything again."
That night, after I got home, I saw something that made my stomach drop.
I was in the kitchen, filling a glass of water, when I saw it — a dark shape standing at the edge of the driveway. My heart skipped, and I froze. The figure was too still, too shadowed to be anyone I recognized.
I stood there, trying to make sense of it, but by the time I reached the window, the figure was gone.
The next morning, I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was always just out of sight, waiting. Watching.
It wasn't just paranoia. I was sure of it now.
I told Jace about the figure I'd seen in the driveway. He didn't look surprised. In fact, he looked more concerned than ever.
"They won't give up," he muttered. "And neither can we."
But as I looked at him — really looked at him — for the first time, something inside me clicked. Jace wasn't just helping me uncover the truth because it was the right thing to do.
He was helping me because he was running out of time.
And so was I.