Cracks in the Glass — Part One
998 Words
Chapter Five
Rain arrived before sunrise.
It fell in soft sheets against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Hawthorne Estate, turning the gardens into a blur of green and silver. Normally, the house would have been alive with conversation by seven o'clock, but this morning felt different.
Quieter.
Heavier.
As though the mysterious message displayed at the gala still lingered in every hallway.
Ava sat at the breakfast island, absent-mindedly stirring her cereal. She hadn't slept much. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the giant screen in the ballroom.
HOW WELL DO YOU REALLY KNOW THE HAWTHORNES?
The words had seemed aimed at everyone.
But the fear on Victoria's face...
That had been real.
"Morning."
Lucas wandered into the kitchen, still wearing a university hoodie, his hair damp from the shower.
"You look terrible."
"Thanks."
"I mean tired."
"I know what you meant."
He opened the fridge and frowned.
"Who finishes the orange juice and puts the empty carton back?"
A housekeeper passing through smiled.
"I'll replace it, Mr Hawthorne."
"You don't have to."
"It's my job."
Lucas sighed once she had disappeared.
"I hate that."
"What?"
"People acting like we can't pour our own drinks."
Ava looked at him.
"I thought rich people enjoyed being waited on."
He laughed.
"Some do."
"You don't?"
"I'd rather make my own breakfast than have five people watching me butter toast."
She smiled for the first time that morning.
Maybe they weren't as different as she'd assumed.
Richard entered moments later, dressed in a charcoal suit, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt.
"Morning, you two."
"Morning."
"You both heading to campus?"
Lucas nodded.
"Yeah."
Richard hesitated before sitting down.
"I wanted to ask you something."
Ava could already tell by his expression that it wasn't really a question.
"What is it?"
"If anyone asks about last night..."
She raised an eyebrow.
"...just tell them it was a technical issue."
"The message wasn't technical."
"No."
"It wasn't."
Richard rubbed his temples.
"But that's what Victoria's PR team will be saying."
Ava exchanged a glance with Lucas.
Neither of them looked convinced.
---
The campus was buzzing before their first lecture had even begun.
Students gathered in clusters outside the main building, phones in their hands, talking over one another.
"...I heard the gala was hacked..."
"...someone said it was an ex-business partner..."
"...my cousin was there..."
"...apparently the Hawthornes are being investigated..."
Rumours multiplied by the minute.
Some sounded believable.
Others became more ridiculous with every retelling.
As Ava and Lucas crossed the courtyard, conversations paused.
Heads turned.
Then whispers followed.
"That's her."
"The new Hawthorne girl."
"I heard she was at the gala."
"Do you think she knows?"
Ava kept walking.
Pretending not to hear them was becoming a skill.
"You okay?" Lucas asked quietly.
"I'm getting used to it."
"You shouldn't have to."
Before either of them could say anything else, Chloe hurried across the courtyard carrying two coffees.
"There you are!"
She handed one to Ava.
"You looked like you needed caffeine."
"I definitely do."
Chloe lowered her voice.
"The whole university's talking about last night."
"So I've noticed."
"Have either of you looked online?"
Lucas pulled out his phone.
"I've been avoiding it."
"Maybe don't."
"Why?"
Chloe swallowed.
"Someone started an account."
Ava's stomach tightened.
"What kind of account?"
Chloe showed them her screen.
The profile picture was completely black.
The username was simple.
@ShatteredTruths
The account had been created less than eight hours earlier.
Already it had thousands of followers.
Only one post had been uploaded.
It was a photograph of the Hawthorne Estate taken from outside the gates.
The caption read:
Every perfect home is built on a foundation. Some foundations are made of lies.
No names.
No explanations.
Just enough to make everyone curious.
Lucas muttered under his breath.
"This is getting out of hand."
---
Their economics lecture felt endless.
Professor Aldridge continued explaining market trends while half the class secretly refreshed social media beneath their desks.
Even Ethan seemed distracted.
When the lecture finally ended, he caught up with Ava outside.
"You've seen the account?"
She nodded.
"It only started today."
"I know."
"What if whoever posted it doesn't stop?"
"They probably won't."
Ava frowned.
"You sound certain."
Ethan looked across the campus before answering.
"People like this don't usually make one statement."
"They build suspense."
"So you think they're planning something."
"I think..."
He paused.
"...they want everyone watching."
"And judging."
Before Ava could respond, Mason jogged over.
"You guys have to see this."
"What now?"
"The account just posted again."
Within seconds they were all staring at Mason's phone.
The new upload wasn't a photograph.
It was a ten-second video.
The Hawthorne family at the charity gala.
Laughing.
Smiling.
Looking perfect.
Then, at the very end...
The image glitched.
One sentence appeared in white letters.
THE FIRST SECRET FALLS NEXT FRIDAY.
The screen went black.
A collective silence settled over the four friends.
Mason let out a low whistle.
"Whoever's behind this..."
"...they're serious."
---
Later that afternoon, rain began falling again.
Ava decided to walk home through the university gardens instead of waiting for the driver Victoria had arranged.
She needed time to think.
The pathways were almost empty.
Raindrops rippled across the lake as ducks drifted lazily through the water.
For the first time all day, everything felt peaceful.
Until she realised someone was walking behind her.
Not close enough to speak.
Just...
Following.
She quickened her pace.
The footsteps quickened too.
Her heart began to race.
She turned sharply.
No one.
Only an empty path stretching beneath dripping oak trees.
She exhaled slowly.
Maybe she was imagining it.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
Again.
Her hands trembled as she opened the message.
There was no photograph this time.
Only one sentence.
You shouldn't walk alone, Ava.
The colour drained from her face.
The message had been sent less than five seconds earlier.
Whoever it was...
They hadn't just found her number.
They knew exactly where she was.
- Writer
