Keeper and the Walker

Chapter 7: The Lie

Her hands trembled as she reached out, grabbing Ivan’s arm, then Camille’s, as if holding them could anchor her to the version of reality she wanted to believe.

“Tell me you’re joking,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Tell me this isn’t real.”

Ivan pulled his arm back sharply, his expression cold. “Lyra, stop pretending. This isn’t a joke. I never loved you. I only dated you because of your money. That’s the truth.”

Lyra’s grip loosened, her hands falling helplessly to her sides. Her tears spilled freely now. “No… no, you can’t mean that. We shared so much. We laughed together. We cried together. You can’t tell me all of that was fake.”

Ivan’s voice was steady, cruel. “It was fake. Every smile, every promise. I wanted comfort, luxury, the life you could give me. That’s all.”

Camille leaned closer, her eyes gleaming with a cruel honesty. “You were blind, Lyra. Blind and desperate to believe in us. That made it easy. You thought we cared, but we were only taking advantage.”

Lyra shook her head violently, her sobs echoing against the rooftop walls. “I trusted you both. I gave you everything. My love, my friendship. And you… you used me.”

Ivan shrugged, his tone almost mocking. “You should have known. People like you, with wealth, are always targets. You thought I loved you? That was your mistake.”

Lyra’s knees weakened, but she forced herself to stand tall, her voice trembling yet firm. “One day, you’ll gonna regret this.”

Ivan scoffed. “Regret? I don’t regret anything. I got what I wanted.”

After hearing that Lyra couldn't take it anymore, she turned toward the door, her steps heavy but before leaving, she looked back one last time, her voice steady despite the tears streaming down her face.

“You betrayed me. You used me. But remember this wealth can be taken away, and when it is, you’ll see who you really are. Empty. Alone.”

With that, she slammed the door shut, leaving Ivan and Camille behind.

Lyra walked down the hallway, her steps heavy, her chest aching with every breath. The sound of the rooftop door slamming echoed in her ears.

She left the school without saying a word to anyone.

Inside her room, Lyra dropped her bag on the floor and collapsed onto her bed. Tears streamed down her face, soaking the pillow. She curled up, hugging herself tightly, as if her arms could shield her from the pain.

That night, she didn’t eat. She just lay there, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything in her mind.

The next morning, Lyra didn’t get up for school. Her alarm rang, but she turned it off and buried her face in the pillow. Her chest felt heavy, her body drained. She couldn’t face Ivan. She couldn’t face Camille. She couldn’t face anyone.

She stayed home that day. And the next. And the next.

Days passed, and Lyra still didn’t return to school. She stayed inside her room, curtains drawn, her phone silent on the desk. She thought her absence would make everything fade, but she was wrong.

But on Monday morning, she finally stood up from her bed, looked at herself in the mirror, and whispered, “Enough.”

She dressed in silence, tied her hair back, and walked out the door. Her steps were slow, but her heart beat fast. She wasn’t ready—but she couldn’t hide forever.

The moment she stepped onto campus, she felt it.

Eyes. Whispers. Stares.

Students turned to look at her. Some widened their eyes. Others smirked. A group of girls near the entrance giggled and leaned toward each other.

“That’s her,” one whispered. “The one who cheated on Ivan.”

“She was seeing someone else while dating him,” another added.

“I heard she’s rich but crazy. No wonder Ivan dumped her.”

Lyra’s breath caught. Her chest tightened. Cheated?

She walked faster, trying to ignore them, but the whispers followed her down the hallway.

“She broke Ivan’s heart.”

“Camille was just trying to help him.”

“Lyra’s the one who ruined everything.”

Lyra’s hands trembled. Her grip on her bag tightened. She reached her classroom, hoping for relief, but even there, the atmosphere was thick with judgment.

Some classmates looked away. Others stared openly. A few exchanged glances and snickered.

She sat down slowly, her breath shallow. Her eyes scanned the room and there they were.

Ivan and Camille.

Sitting together. Laughing. Acting like nothing had happened.

Camille caught Lyra’s gaze and gave her a sweet, fake smile. Ivan didn’t even look at her.

Lyra’s chest burned. Her jaw clenched.

The professor entered, but Lyra couldn’t focus. Her mind was spinning. The lies. The betrayal. The rumors.

When the bell rang and students began packing up, Lyra stood suddenly. Her chair scraped loudly against the floor.

Everyone turned.

She walked straight to Camille and Ivan’s desk, her eyes blazing.

“You think you’re clever, don’t you?” she said, her voice loud and clear. “You think you can lie and everyone will believe you?”

Camille blinked, pretending to be confused. “Lyra, what are you talking about?”

Lyra laughed bitterly. “Don’t act innocent. You’ve been spreading lies about me. Telling people I cheated. That i was the reason for the breakup.”

Ivan stood, his expression calm. “If the truth hurts, that’s not our fault.”

Lyra’s voice rose. “Truth? You mean the story you made up to protect yourselves? You used me. You betrayed me. And now you’re trying to destroy my name?”

Students gathered around, drawn by the noise. Phones were already out, recording.

Camille stood too, her tone defensive. “We didn’t spread anything. People just saw what happened and made their own conclusions.”

Lyra stepped closer, her voice shaking with fury. “No. You made sure they saw what you wanted them to see. You twisted everything. You made me look like a villain so you could walk away clean.”

Ivan crossed his arms. “You’re overreacting.”

Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “Overreacting? You told people I cheated. You told them I was with someone else. You made me look like a liar. And for what? To protect your image?”

Camille scoffed. “Maybe if you weren’t so dramatic, people wouldn’t believe it.”

That was the final straw.

Lyra grabbed Camille’s notebook and threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a loud thud.

Gasps filled the air.

“Don’t you dare call me dramatic,” Lyra shouted. “You’re the one who kissed my boyfriend behind my back. You’re the one who pretended to be my friend while stabbing me in the back.”

Camille stepped back, her face pale. Ivan moved between them, but Lyra didn’t stop.

“You both used me. You used my kindness, my trust, my money. And now you’re trying to bury me with lies. But I won’t let you.”