Whispers in the Dark.

Chapter Nine: The Fallout.

The days blurred after that.

At school, whispers followed me down the hallways. I wasn’t the kind of girl people usually talked about—but now, I was the girl who got caught in a raid. The girl with Jace Miller.

Emily cornered me at lunch. She waited until the table cleared, her expression somewhere between worried and furious.

“You lied to me,” she said.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“You told me it was just a project. But you were with him—sneaking around, disappearing at night… Lena, what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking…” I paused. “I was thinking he was more than what people said he was.”

Emily sighed. “Maybe he is. But that doesn’t mean it was safe.”

“I know that now.”

I looked down at the lightning bolt on my necklace, fingers curling around it like a lifeline.

“I haven’t heard from him,” I whispered. “Not a text. Not anything.”

Emily softened a little. “Do you think something happened?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I think Rico scared him off. Or worse.”

⸻

After school, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to do something.

So I went to the one place I hadn’t yet: the old skate park by the train tracks—Jace’s spot. He once told me he used to come here before everything went south. Before he stopped trusting people.

It was mostly empty. Rusted rails. Faded graffiti. The kind of place time forgot.

And then I saw it.

Spray-painted in bold white across the back wall:

“She’s the only thing I did right.”

I froze.

The handwriting—I knew it. Sharp, slanted. His.

I touched the wall like it might still be warm.

He’d been here.

He left a message.

That night, I stayed up refreshing my inbox, rereading his last text over and over. I wasn’t sure if he was still in town… or if this was his goodbye.

⸻

The next morning, something even worse happened.

My dad got a call during breakfast. I watched his face change as he listened. Tension in his jaw. His eyes flicking toward me as if he knew I was going to ask.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

He stood, grabbing his keys. “Warehouse fire. South end. It’s one of Rico’s. Your boy might’ve been involved.”

My stomach dropped. “He’s not—my boy.”

He stared at me. “I really hope that’s true, Lena.”

And then he left.

⸻

I couldn’t go to school. Couldn’t pretend any of this was normal. I got dressed and took the bus across town, heading for the only place I hadn’t checked yet:

Jace’s mom’s old apartment building.

I knew she didn’t live there anymore, but maybe he went back. Maybe it meant something to him.

I buzzed random buttons until someone let me in. The place smelled like dust and burnt toast. The hallways were dim.

I made it to the second floor, apartment 2C.

I knocked once.

Nothing.

I knocked again.

Then I heard it.

The soft shuffle of footsteps.

And a voice—low, tired.

“Lena?”

The door creaked open.

And there he was.

⸻

Jace.

Bruised. Tired. But alive.