Mia's POV
I stayed there for a while, just holding Aika like I was trying to keep her from falling into pieces. I didn't say much because, honestly, I had no words. What do you even say to someone who just found out the people she trusted the most left her brother to die?
After a few minutes, her sobs turned into silence. Her breathing slowed, and I could tell she was finally calming down, or maybe just too tired to cry anymore.
"I need to go," she whispered. "I need to be alone."
I nodded, standing up slowly and brushing off my jeans. "Okay... But please, just message me when you get home. Or... anywhere. Just so I know you're safe."
She didn’t look at me. She just walked away, her figure slowly shrinking into the night.
Once she was gone, I let out a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding. My arms were shaking a bit. My mind was spinning.
Then I heard footsteps.
"So? She's gone?"
I turned to see June standing behind the carousel pole, chewing a lollipop like this whole thing wasn't falling apart.
I nodded. "Yeah. She's gone. For now."
June walked toward me, her hands inside her hoodie pocket, then plopped herself down on the bench.
"Damn. She knows now, huh?"
I sat beside her and leaned back. My head hit the cold metal, and I closed my eyes.
"She knows enough. But not all. Not yet."
June clicked her tongue. "You think she’ll ever find out? About the rest?"
I opened one eye and looked at her. "What do you think? This is Aika. That girl could uncover an underground mafia if she wanted to."
June laughed, her candy nearly flying out of her mouth. "True! I once saw her solve a math problem faster than the teacher. While drinking iced coffee and cursing under her breath."
I chuckled. "Exactly. She's scary when she wants to be. But right now, she's just... broken."
We both fell quiet for a second.
The wind blew gently, and the carousel creaked a little.
"Mia," June said after a while, more serious now. "Do you think we did the right thing? Not telling her everything from the start?"
I sighed. My throat felt dry.
"Honestly? I don’t know. I just… I didn’t want her to carry more pain. Not when she was already carrying so much."
June nodded slowly. "Yeah. But now she’s gonna carry betrayal too. From them. From us."
I looked down at my hands.
"We didn’t leave Julius. We didn’t kill him. But we still lied."
June leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Everyone’s lying these days. Like it’s some group project."
I couldn’t help but laugh, just a little. "Yeah, a group project where no one wants to get an F, but we all suck at hiding the answers."
She chuckled. Then sighed again.
"You know what’s weird?" she said.
"What?"
"That night… Liam called me. Not Noah. Not Ethan. Just me. He was scared. I’d never heard him that scared before."
I raised my brow. "Really? What did he say?"
June looked away. "He said, 'I think Julius is dead.' Then he hung up."
I blinked. "That’s it?"
She nodded. "Like one of those horror movies where someone whispers something on the phone and disappears."
I gave her a small punch on the shoulder. "This ain’t a movie. Though sometimes it feels like one. A bad one. Low budget."
She giggled. "With horrible writing and no snacks."
We stayed quiet again.
I looked up at the sky.
The stars were out. It should’ve been a pretty night.
But everything felt wrong.
"I wish we could go back," I muttered.
"To what?"
"To before Julius died. Before secrets. Before we had to pick who to protect."
June leaned her head on my shoulder.
"Same. But we can't. So now we deal with it."
I looked down at her.
"And what if Aika never forgives us?"
She smiled, small and sad.
"Then I guess we earn it back. One way or another."
June and I stay there for a while, like literally stuck on the same spot, not even blinking. June just stared at me like I was stupid. Maybe I was. Maybe I just didn’t know how to help her, or what to say anymore. I sighed and dropped my weight onto the beanbag like it owed me rent.
“She’s not okay,” I mumbled.
June looked like she wanted to throw a pillow at me. “Wow. Really? Took you that long to figure that out?”
“Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting, I’m finishing.”
I threw a pillow at her anyway, but she dodged and let it fall onto the floor.
Then we both got quiet again.
The silence was kinda loud.
I leaned back, arms spread on both sides like a melted starfish, and stared up at the ceiling. “I feel so useless,” I said. “Like, I’m right here beside her, but I can’t fix anything.”
“She’s grieving.”
“Yeah, but she’s breaking, too.” I rolled to my side, hugging one of the throw pillows. “And now there’s all this—Liam, Ethan, freaking Noah acting like a dead man walking—ugh! I feel like I’m watching one of those K-dramas, except we’re the ones getting heart damage.”
June rubbed her temples, looking like she had a headache that started back in 1999. “So what now, genius?”
I paused.
Then sat up slowly, a tiny spark in my brain lighting up. “Wait.”
“No,” June said immediately. “I don’t like that face. That’s the same face you made when you told the teacher our report was done when it wasn’t.”
“Shhh,” I waved my hand at her. “Listen. What if… what if we take her out somewhere tomorrow?”
“What, like a date?”
“Not like that,” I rolled my eyes. “Like a breather. An escape. A pause button from all the emotional tornado happening around her.”
June blinked at me. “And where exactly do you plan to ‘pause’ reality?”
I grinned a little. “The art garden room.”
She blinked again. “You mean that creepy old room no one uses in the east wing?”
“It’s not creepy! It’s just dusty and... full of old stuff and forgotten sketchbooks and vines and broken windows and—okay fine, maybe creepy.”
June gave me the look. “Why there?”
“Because it’s quiet. And pretty. And weirdly peaceful.” I shrugged. “Back in first year, I used to sneak in there and draw when I felt like exploding.”
“Girl, you can’t even draw a cat.”
“That’s not the point!” I pointed a finger at her dramatically. “The point is, it’s a little hidden place no one remembers. Aika needs a place where no one looks at her with pity. Or questions. Or those faces people give when they think you’re fragile.”
June stared at me. She didn’t smile, didn’t roll her eyes this time. Just… stared.
Then, slowly, she nodded. “Okay. Yeah. That actually sounds kinda nice.”
I lit up like a lightbulb. “Right?! We can sneak in after class. I’ll bring snacks, and maybe coffee. Or tea. I don’t know what people grieving drink.”
“Water, Mia. They drink water.”
“Okay, water and cookies then.”
We both laughed a little, and it was the first time the air around us didn’t feel like it weighed a thousand bricks.
“But what about the boys?” June asked, leaning her head back on the wall.
“They’ll be fine,” I said, though I wasn’t fully sure. “They have fists and regrets, let them fight it out.”
June snorted.
I picked up my phone and opened my gallery, scrolling through old pictures—me, Aika, June, blurry shots of our classroom, selfies from sleepovers, and one very ugly angle of me eating noodles which Aika refused to delete.
She’s smiling in every photo. Not like fake-smiling, but real ones. Eyes squinting. Mouth wide. That kind of happy that makes your heart swell just looking at it.
I missed that smile.
“Tomorrow,” I whispered, more to myself than anyone else, “we’re gonna find that smile again.”
June must’ve heard, but she didn’t say anything.
She just reached over and pulled the blanket over both of us. We stayed there, huddled up in the quiet room, surrounded by memories, and plans we weren’t sure would fix anything but we were gonna try anyway.
Because she’s Aika.
And Aika deserved a moment of peace, even if it’s just for a little while.