Zara didn't want to touch the envelope.
But she couldn't look away either.
It sat there like something out of a nightmare plastic-wrapped, blood-spotted, and screaming you're not safe.
Jaxon stared at it for a full minute before reaching in and carefully pulling it out. He didn't speak. His jaw was locked tight, and a vein pulsed hard in his neck.
"Don't open it," Zara whispered.
But he already had.
Inside was a small polaroid photo.
Zara gasped.
It was a picture of her sleeping. In her dorm room.
Her body froze, every inch of her going cold. "That... that's not possible. My door was locked. My windows"
"They got in," Jaxon said grimly. "Which means they wanted us to know they could."
On the back of the photo, more ink.
"One more step and she disappears. Just like the others."
Zara looked up at him, voice shaking. "What do they mean, 'just like the others'?"
Jaxon shoved the photo back into the envelope and stood up, pacing.
"Jaxon. Tell me."
He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "Last year… two students went missing. Both girls. Both outsiders. It was covered up. The school claimed they transferred, but no one ever saw them again. And one of them Isla, she was the last girl who ever got close to me."
Zara stared at him. "Why didn't you say anything before?"
"Because if I talk too much, people disappear. If I push too hard, someone pays the price. This school this town has secrets people are willing to kill to protect."
"And now I'm next," she whispered.
"No," he said firmly, stepping toward her. "I won't let that happen."
But Zara couldn't ignore the way her heart thudded painfully. The shadows were moving. The mask was off.
She wasn't just some scholarship girl who saved a rich boy anymore.
She was in the middle of something darker than she ever imagined.
Later that night, she couldn't sleep. She barely moved from her bed, lights on, chair jammed under the doorknob.
She kept thinking of that picture. Her sleeping. Vulnerable. Exposed.
At 2:43 AM, her phone buzzed.
Another message.
Unknown Number:
You still have time to walk away, Zara. Last warning.
She stared at the screen, chest rising and falling like she'd run a marathon.
Then she typed back.
Zara:
Do your worst. I'm not afraid of shadows.
There was no reply.
But across campus, in the dark corner of the parking lot, someone smiled.