Chelsea pov
The account was clean, three layers removed from anything that could trace back to me, built slowly over the past several evenings during the narrow window between my mother's phone calls and her nightly check on my room.
I sat cross-legged on my bed, laptop balanced on my knees, scrolling through the reunion event page one more time, watching the guest list grow, watching Kayla's name appear in the RSVP list Priya had posted publicly like she wanted the whole world to know exactly where to find her that week.
I didn't have a plan yet. Not really. Just fragments, pieces I was gathering the way I always gathered things, patient, methodical, waiting for the right shape to emerge from them.
My door opened without a knock.
I closed the laptop too fast, the motion itself giving
