When the River Burns

Elena Reyes stood on the rooftop of her father’s estate, watching the city burn gold beneath the setting sun. From this height, everything seemed peaceful—clean lines, perfect symmetry, the illusion of order. But she knew better. Order was a cage dressed in silk, and she was its most pampered prisoner. Below her, the capital buzzed in muted silence. Drones floated like lazy flies. Guards patrolled in pairs. Even the breeze carried the scent of regulation: sterilized, restrained. And still, her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She had received another message. Same alley. Midnight. Come alone. No name. No signature. But she knew who it was. She always did. Kai Navarro. The boy she was raised to fear—the rebel who shouldn’t exist. The boy with smoke in his lungs and scars that whispered of war. And yet, it was his voice that broke through the static of her life, every time. “Elena!” a sharp voice called behind her. She didn’t flinch. She’d grown used to people shouting her name like a command. Her stepmother, Mariana, appeared at the balcony’s edge, painted and poised like royalty. “Your father wants you downstairs. He’s entertaining a foreign delegate. Wear something appropriate.” Elena turned slowly, her smile perfect, dead behind the eyes. “Of course.” Inside, the halls stretched like polished cages. Cameras in every corner. Smiles too white to be real. The Reyes estate was a palace built on propaganda. And Elena was the obedient daughter, the pretty lie. The heir to a system she couldn’t stomach. As she walked past the mirror, she barely recognized herself—pressed dress, painted lips, spine straight as doctrine. But under the silk sleeves were bruises from climbing out windows. Under her breath were secrets she didn’t dare say aloud. At dinner, Rodrigo Reyes held court like a king. Her father. The “visionary.” The man whose hands were stained in silence and disappearances. “Elena,” he said smoothly, gesturing to the guest across the table, “this is Director Hale from the Dominion States. He’s quite eager to see our city’s... loyalty.” Loyalty. What a word. She smiled, nodding politely, all while her thoughts screamed. If Hale knew half the things Rodrigo buried—half the truths Elena had discovered—he’d turn his wine glass upside down and run. That night, as the estate went quiet, Elena moved like smoke through the halls. She disabled one security loop with a device Ivy had given her weeks ago—her best friend, her co-conspirator, the only one who knew what Elena was really doing when she vanished into the dark. At the wall, she hoisted herself over with practiced ease, landing softly in the alley where Kai once saved her from getting caught with stolen protest leaflets. She waited. Then— A whistle. She turned. There he was. Kai Navarro leaned against the brick wall, hoodie shadowing his eyes, the glint of danger carved into every inch of him. “You’re late,” he said, voice low. “You’re lucky I came,” she replied, folding her arms. “I’m not the one living with a dictator,” he shot back. She stepped forward. “You wanted to meet. What is it this time? Explosives? A prison break? Another file from my mother’s past?” Kai’s gaze darkened. “They’re moving Matteo tomorrow. Secretly. He won’t survive another transfer.” Elena’s breath caught. Matteo was just a kid—seventeen. Caught handing out subversive fliers. Kai’s cousin. “I can’t help you,” she whispered, even as her heart rebelled. “They watch me now. Every room. Every step.” “But you still came,” he said quietly, stepping closer. “That has to mean something.” Their eyes locked. The distance between them was just inches now—but it might as well be miles. He was everything she’d been warned against. Everything that made her feel alive. “I came,” she said, voice trembling, “because if I don’t, I’ll forget who I am.” A siren wailed faintly in the distance. Kai grabbed her hand, warm and rough and real. “We don’t have much time,” he said. “Matteo dies if we do nothing. I need you.” Elena hesitated. Then nodded. And in that moment, the governor’s daughter chose treason.