The hallway lights flickered once. Then again. And the silence that followed wasn't like the usual quiet that filled the night hours at Saint Aurelius—this was heavier. Like the calm before a storm.
Bianca stood by the tall window near the west wing staircase, her fingers curled around her phone. She wasn’t texting anyone. She wasn’t calling anyone. She was just staring at the screen, her face completely blank. But her eyes? They held something else. Something unspoken.
She had overheard Skylar and Aiden earlier. She didn’t mean to.
But it was always like this with her—walking into truths she wasn’t ready to hear.
“You’re really important to me, Aiden,” Skylar’s voice had echoed behind the music room door. “Like… best friend important.”
Bianca didn’t hear the rest, because the ache that clamped down on her chest wasn’t hers—it was Aiden’s. And it hurt like hell.
She knew that pain. Too well.
A soft knock pulled her out of her thoughts. Aiden.
He stood there, hoodie half-zipped, eyes low, hands buried in his pockets like he was hiding from the world.
“You okay?” he asked first.
Bianca blinked. She let out a quiet breath and nodded. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
He chuckled softly. It didn’t reach his eyes. “Guess we both suck at being okay.”
They fell into silence for a few seconds.
“I was going to tell her everything,” Aiden said, not even waiting to be asked. “I wrote this note. Dumb little speech, really. But then she looked at me like I was… safe. Not like I was someone she could love.”
Bianca’s throat tightened.
“I’ve seen that look before,” he continued. “I gave that look to someone once. I didn’t even know it back then. But I get it now.”
Bianca stared at him, really stared, before whispering, “It changes you, doesn’t it?”
Aiden didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to.
Bianca finally moved, pulling out something from her pocket. A folded paper. Not his speech.
It was… a photo.
Skylar. Younger. Laughing. Her smile brighter than the sun.
And standing beside her—someone Bianca couldn’t forget even if she tried.
“You know her… from before?” Aiden asked slowly.
Bianca nodded. “I didn’t at first. I mean, her name was familiar, but names are just names, right? Until I saw her eyes.”
“You… knew her?”
Bianca looked down, fighting every urge to pull away again. “My brother. He… He was in the same program. Same school. A special youth camp. That’s where she met him.”
Aiden froze.
Bianca’s voice cracked. “He liked her, Aiden. A lot. And then one day… she disappeared. No goodbyes. No reason. My brother—he spiraled. He’s not the same.”
Aiden’s lips parted. “You think she hurt him?”
“I don’t know,” Bianca said, honest and raw. “But she was a part of something that changed him. And I swore if I ever saw her again… I’d protect people from her. Even if it meant you’d hate me.”
“But what if she didn’t do anything wrong?” Aiden asked quietly.
Bianca’s hands trembled. “Then I’ll have to live with the guilt of misunderstanding someone I never really knew.”
More silence. But it was louder than thunder.
“Aiden,” Bianca whispered. “Don’t fall for someone who doesn’t see the war you’re fighting just to stay by her side.”
He didn’t respond.
She turned to walk away, but he caught her wrist.
“What happened to your brother?” he asked.
Bianca smiled faintly, and it shattered him more than any cry ever could.
“He forgot how to feel.”
And just like that, she disappeared down the hallway—leaving behind a million questions, a photo that didn’t belong to her, and a boy who didn’t know if he should chase the girl who called him safe, or the one who warned him of the fire.
---
Skylar's POV
The day passed slower than usual.
Not even the clouds had the energy to float today—they just hung there, heavy, like my thoughts. I stared at my unfinished notes in the library, my pen rolling back and forth over the edge of the table. My mind was everywhere. I couldn’t focus. Couldn’t breathe properly. Something was bothering me, and it wasn’t just the mess that happened last night. It was more than that.
It was the dream again.
But this time, it wasn't blurry. This time, it was clear—like I was actually there.
A boy.
He wasn’t just some face I’d forgotten. No, this one… he had a name. A soft voice. Messy dark hair. The way he smiled—like I used to laugh at him for some silly reason. He always chased me around the garden. There was a tall tree. A swing.
"Ethan, catch me if you can!"
And then, I tripped.
And he caught me before I even hit the ground. His arms wrapped around me.
"You always fall," he whispered, his breath warm near my ear, "but I’ll always be there, Sky."
I shot awake at my desk again in the library, heart thudding like crazy. My hand touched my chest. My skin felt cold. That voice. That name.
Ethan?
Who… who is Ethan?
---
Bianca's POV
I saw Skylar walk out of the library, her face pale. Her hands fidgeting with the straps of her bag.
I felt it in my gut again.
I know that look. I've seen it before—years ago. But she doesn’t remember, does she?
She really doesn’t.
Poor girl.
I leaned against the cold wall and dialed a number I hadn’t in weeks.
Ring. Ring. Click.
"You told me you left everything behind," I said without greeting. My voice stayed low. Controlled. "But she’s remembering. What do I do now?"
The voice on the other end froze.
"Then we do what we’ve always done, Bianca."
"We protect her."
---
Aiden's POV
My chest hadn’t stopped hurting since last night.
Skylar’s words still echoed.
"You’re… really special to me, Aiden. But not in that way."
I stayed silent.
Even now, walking the same halls I’ve walked since the start of the semester, they felt different. Emptier. Like the lights had dimmed a little bit just because of her words. I shoved my hands deeper into my jacket pockets, trying to forget the crumpled paper still hiding in there. The confession I never gave. The words I rehearsed for weeks.
Wasted.
Useless.
But then, I saw her again. Sitting on the bench outside the east wing. Hugging her knees like the world got too loud.
And even if she never saw me the same way, I couldn't stop caring.
So, I sat beside her. Silent. But I placed a small juice box next to her elbow—the same one she told me once she loved when we were freshmen.
No words. Just small things.
Because sometimes, that’s all I could give.
---
“Okay, but—” I burst into laughter, “—you really messaged him ‘I dropped the peanut butter again’? That was your move?”
Mia rolled her eyes and hid her face in her arms on the lunch table. “It was a panic message, okay?! I didn’t mean to send it!”
Lucas had just walked past the hallway when it happened. And now? He’d replied.
I grabbed her phone and squealed when I saw it.
Lucas: “Then maybe I’ll bring you a new jar. Or hold it next time so you stop blaming gravity.”
Mia was squealing in silence now. “What does he mean by hold it next time??” she whisper-shouted.
I wiggled my eyebrows at her. “Girl, you are so cooked.”
But seeing her like that? Laughing, smiling, cheeks pink? It was so refreshing. Especially with how heavy everything else felt lately.