Chapter 5: The Weight of Secrets
768 Words
Elena had never stolen anything before.
Not a candy bar. Not a lipstick. Not even a glance that wasn’t hers to take.
And yet, here she was—slipping a small black chip into the lining of her coat, heart pounding so loudly she feared the guards outside her father’s office could hear it through the walls.
It wasn’t a full file.
Just a fragment. Just enough.
A name. A project ID. Coordinates tagged with the Reyes Foundation’s security encryption.
Something Kai could use. Something they could use.
Her hand trembled.
Once she walked out that door, she couldn’t unwalk it.
---
She met Kai three blocks from the river, behind an old café that smelled of burned espresso and mildew. He leaned against the wall like sin wrapped in leather—dark hoodie, bruised knuckles, eyes scanning every shadow.
He looked like a secret she wasn’t supposed to know.
She handed him the chip. Said nothing.
He didn’t ask how she got it. Just slid it into a reader clipped to his belt.
His jaw tensed. “This is a Reyes blacksite.”
“What’s there?”
“People,” he said. “Ones they don’t want the world to remember.”
She felt cold. “And now?”
“Now we do something about it.”
---
They sat on the rooftop of an abandoned library as the city pulsed below.
Elena picked at a cracked tile while Kai smoked beside her. He offered her one; she shook her head.
“Bad girl,” he teased. “What kind of rebel are you?”
“The kind who steals state secrets but still says no to lung cancer.”
He smirked. “Respect.”
For a moment, they didn’t speak. The silence stretched, electric and full.
“I shouldn’t be here,” she said finally.
“But you are.”
“I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”
“You’re not.”
She turned to him, startled.
“Not yet,” he added. “But you came back. That means something.”
“Or maybe I’m just trying to prove something.”
“Same thing, isn’t it?”
She looked down at the city. Lights bled gold and blue like a living heartbeat.
“I thought knowing the truth would feel freeing,” she whispered. “But it just feels heavier.”
“Truth doesn’t set you free,” he said. “It chains you to what you can’t ignore.”
---
A siren wailed far off. Distant. But it made them both flinch.
Elena felt Kai’s arm brush hers—just a shift in weight, a coincidence, maybe.
But then he didn’t move away.
“You ever wish we met differently?” she asked.
Kai looked at her then, sharp and raw. “Every damn day.”
She nodded, eyes glassy. “Maybe in another life, we weren’t enemies.”
“We’re not enemies,” he said. “Not you and me.”
“Then what are we?”
The question hung in the night, breathless and trembling.
Kai leaned in. Close enough that his breath warmed her cheek. His voice was a whisper, rough with restraint.
“Dangerous.”
---
Elena kissed him first.
It was soft. Hesitant. The kind of kiss that asked permission and gave apology in the same breath.
Kai froze.
Then pulled away, jaw clenched, breathing hard.
“I can’t.”
“You already did.”
“No,” he said, voice rough. “That wasn’t me. That was someone who forgot this could get us both killed.”
“Maybe I want to forget.”
He stared at her, haunted.
“You can’t afford to. Not yet.”
---
When she returned home, the lights were off in the west wing.
But her father’s study door was open.
He was waiting inside.
“Elena,” Rodrigo said calmly. “Where have you been?”
She didn’t flinch. “Library. Studying.”
“For what? A future you already inherited?”
“I like answers.”
He stood, walking slowly toward her.
“You know, when your mother died, I thought the world would crack open. That I’d lose you too.”
She swallowed. “You didn’t.”
“No,” he said softly. “But lately I wonder if I ever had you in the first place.”
A beat of silence.
“You’re hiding something.”
Elena’s throat tightened.
“Don’t lie to me,” Rodrigo added. “Not you.”
She didn’t.
She just said nothing.
And silence—she knew—was louder than betrayal.
- Writer
