Chapter 5: Crossed Wires
1542 Words
Rain tapped against the windows of San Ricardo Integrated School as if trying to scratch its way inside. The overcast sky turned the campus gray and dull, casting long shadows across the once-lively corridors.
Russel stood near the covered walkway leading to the science building, his black hoodie soaked from the short walk in the drizzle. The bandage on his ribs was tight beneath his clothes, a sharp reminder that danger wasn't just a word anymore—it was personal.
He scanned the crowd.
Students laughed, umbrellas flapping, unaware of the fear coiled in his chest.
Ara hadn’t returned to school yet.
And the silence was starting to eat at him.
His phone vibrated.
Unknown Number: You’re slipping, bodyguard.
Russel’s eyes narrowed.
He typed back: Come out and say it to my face.
No reply.
He clenched his fist. Whoever this was, they weren’t just targeting Ara anymore—they were watching him. Mocking him. Testing how far he’d go.
Later that day, Russel met with a member of the Collins security network in an empty classroom used for school events.
“Something’s off,” Russel said. “The cameras, the last break-in, the texts—they’re always one step ahead.”
The agent nodded. “They’re not random thugs. This is coordinated.”
Russel leaned against the desk. “I want Seraphina Nova Grey’s background. Every detail.”
The agent raised an eyebrow. “She’s your classmate.”
“Exactly. She knew too much too soon. She talks in riddles. And she warned me before Ara was attacked.”
“I’ll look into it,” the man said. “But Collins himself said she’s not a priority.”
“She is now.”
By the next morning, Ara had returned to school.
Russel spotted her at the school gate, stepping out of a luxury car. Her hand was still bandaged, but her expression was cold—far colder than he remembered.
She didn’t look for him.
Didn’t smile.
Didn’t pause.
She just walked past like he wasn’t there.
Russel followed from a distance, keeping his pace steady.
He didn’t blame her. Not after what she went through. Not after bleeding in her own room while he was miles away chasing ghosts.
He found her sitting by the large acacia tree near the back of the campus during break.
He stepped forward slowly. “Ara.”
She didn’t look up.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he said.
Her voice was hollow. “It’s your job to be there.”
“I chased the man who broke in. I brought him down. I thought—”
“You thought wrong.”
He sat beside her anyway.
After a pause, she asked, “Why did you even take this job?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Then, softly, “Because I didn’t want to see you die.”
She finally turned her head. “Then you had better stop failing.”
That afternoon, a new student entered their classroom.
The teacher introduced her: “Class, this is Seraphina Nova Grey. She’s rejoining us permanently. Be kind.”
The students murmured.
Russel’s spine went stiff.
She wore the same detached smile. Same cold eyes.
She walked in slowly, locking eyes with him for just a heartbeat before sitting across the room.
Ara didn’t look at her.
Seraphina didn’t look at Ara.
But something shifted in the air—like a wire being pulled tighter.
After school, Russel cornered Seraphina near the garden walkway.
“You disappeared for days,” he said. “Then show up like nothing happened?”
She twirled her umbrella. “Did you miss me?”
“Cut it out. What are you really doing here?”
She leaned closer. “Protecting you. Even if you don’t understand yet.”
“From what?”
Seraphina’s eyes darkened. “From falling for someone who’ll never be safe.”
Russel’s jaw tensed. “You don’t know her.”
“I know enough,” she said, walking away. And I know you’re getting too close. That’s why they’re watching you now, too.”
He stared after her, heart pounding.
Later that evening, a manila envelope was slipped under Russel’s door at the Collins estate.
Inside: a photo.
Ara, smiling. But circled in red ink.
And beside it, in block letters:
SHE IS FIRE. YOU ARE THE MATCH. BURN TOGETHER.
Russel clenched the photo, breathing hard.
The next phase had begun.
******************************
Russel stared at the threatening photo in his hands, blood pumping so loudly in his ears it drowned out the rain. The words scratched across Ara’s smiling face—SHE IS THE FIRE. YOU ARE THE MATCH. BURN TOGETHER.—hit like a brand on his chest.
His first instinct was to storm Ara’s room and tell her everything. But he stopped himself.
She was barely speaking to him.
And this message—it wasn’t just about fear. It was psychological warfare. Someone was pulling strings, trying to manipulate not just their safety, but their trust in one another.
He had to be smart.
Had to be quiet.
And he needed answers.
That night, Russel headed toward the servants’ wing where the estate kept its archived visitor logs and surveillance backups. He passed a few guards who nodded respectfully; they already saw him not as a visitor, but as part of the system.
In a dusty room behind the laundry area, he logged into the Command terminal.
He pulled up the footage from the moment Seraphina returned to school.
Nothing.
The file was empty.
He searched for any camera catching her arrival at the gate that morning.
Corrupted.
He slammed the desk. “Of course you’re hiding something.”
Then he checked the external database—a backup only a few knew existed.
This time, the footage loaded. It showed a black car with tinted windows pulling up two blocks from San Ricardo Integrated School. Seraphina stepped out… alone.
But the license plate belonged to a delivery van registered under VulcanTech Ltd.—a front used by the Velacruz Syndicate, Collins' long-time enemy.
The breath rushed out of Russel’s lungs.
Seraphina was embedded.
Again.
And this time, she didn’t come to play girlfriend.
She came to finish what she started.
At school the next day, everything felt wrong.
The air felt thick. Silent. Heavy.
Russel didn’t see Ara during homeroom.
He didn’t see Seraphina either.
But when he turned the corner near the chemistry lab, he found Ara pressed against a locker—by Seraphina.
Their voices were low but heated.
“You’re a distraction,” Seraphina hissed. “You’re not ready for this world. You never were.”
“I never asked for your opinion,” Ara shot back. “Or your presence.”
“You think you’re strong now?” Seraphina smirked. “Sweetheart, you bleed like everyone else.”
Ara’s eyes didn’t flinch. “So do you.”
That’s when Russel stepped in. “Enough.”
Seraphina backed off, smirking. “You always come running for her. Like a trained dog.”
Russel glared. “And you always come slithering back like a poison.”
Seraphina’s smile faded just slightly. “We’ll see who survives longer, Russel. Her fire or your loyalty.”
She walked off, leaving the air colder than it had been.
Ara exhaled shakily.
“I didn’t need your help,” she murmured.
“I know.” He paused. “But I needed to give it.”
Lunch was worse.
Someone slipped an envelope into Ara’s locker.
Russel caught a glimpse as she opened it.
Inside was a single Polaroid of the two of them—taken during their hospital escape.
They were asleep.
Together.
Their injuries visible. Her head resting on his shoulder.
She clutched the photo tightly.
Then handed it to him.
“No one else knew we were like that,” she whispered. “Except you and me.”
“And Seraphina,” he replied.
Ara stiffened.
He looked at her. “We’re being watched. This isn’t about your father anymore. It’s about us. Whatever we’ve started…”
“It’s a target,” she said softly.
He nodded.
That night, Russel stood outside under the fading moonlight, training. His bruises throbbed. His mind raced.
He heard footsteps behind him.
Ara.
She wore a gray hoodie, arms crossed.
“I’m not here to fight,” she said.
“Neither am I.”
“I just...” She hesitated. “I don’t want to keep being scared.”
“You’re allowed to be scared, Ara. What you’re not allowed to do is let it win.”
She stepped closer.
“I used to think being alone made me stronger,” she said. “Now I just feel tired.”
He placed his hand gently over hers.
“You’re not alone anymore.”
They stood in silence, palms pressed together.
It wasn’t a confession.
Not yet.
But it was something stronger than denial.
It was hope.
At dawn, a phone call shattered the peace.
Seraphina was missing.
Her bag found outside the gate.
No blood. No note. Just gone.
And Russel…
Felt nothing.
Because deep down, he knew—this wasn’t a kidnapping.
It was a trap.
And he and Ara were walking straight into it.
- Writer
