CHAPTER THREE: THE FIVE
1167 Words
POV: Vespera Vale
“You’re the sister.”
The girl who said it was gorgeous in the effortless way that made you hate her a little, blonde hair falling over one shoulder, a smile that looked practiced but not fake. She slid into the seat next to me before I had even set my tray down.
“Celestine Voss,” she said, like her name was supposed to mean something. “Everyone’s talking about you.”
“I noticed.”
“Don’t worry. It’ll die down.” She studied my face like she was searching for something in it. “You look like her, you know. Seraphine. Same eyes.”
My fork stopped halfway to my mouth. “You knew her?”
“Everyone knew her.” Celestine’s smile faded, just slightly. “But your sister was not the person you thought she was.”
“What does that mean?”
She opened her mouth like she might actually answer. Then she glanced past me, toward the door, and whatever she saw there made her shut it again.
“Forget I said anything,” she said, standing up. “Welcome to Blackthorn.”
~~~~~
Maddox Valehart found me an hour later, leaning against the lockers with the kind of confidence that came from never being told no.
“So you’re the mystery girl,” he said. “I heard you made Riven Ashcroft turn white as a ghost and it was really impressive. Didn’t think that was possible.”
“You know him?”
“Everyone knows him. Stay away from him. He’s dangerous.” Maddox grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Now me, on the other hand…”
“What happened to my sister?”
The grin dropped off his face like it had never existed.
“You should stop asking questions,” he said quietly, “before you lose another family member.”
He walked away before I could respond, and I stood there with my heart slamming against my ribs, wondering if I had just imagined the threat in his voice, or if it had been real.
~~~
Elara Wren was different. Smaller. Quieter. She flinched when I said hello, like she wasn’t used to people speaking to her directly.
“I just wanted to ask about Seraphine,” I said gently.
Her eyes filled with tears almost instantly. “She knew the truth.”
“What truth?”
Elara shook her head fast, her hands twisting together. “I can’t. I can’t say it. Please don’t ask me again.”
She walked away crying, and I stood in the hallway feeling like I had just broken something fragile without meaning to.
~~~
Dorian Blackwell was the only one who seemed genuinely happy to meet me.
“Vespera. I’ve been wanting to introduce myself.” He had the kind of smile that belonged on a magazine cover, easy and warm. “My family owns this school. If you ever need anything, anything at all, come find me.”
“That’s kind of you.”
“I mean it. Blackthorn can be confusing if you don’t know how things work here.” He tilted his head. “I know it must be hard, being back where your sister died.”
Something about the way he said it, so smooth, so rehearsed, made the hair rise in my arms. I thanked him and walked away faster than necessary. He was too perfect. Nobody was that perfect.
~~~
Riven was the only one who didn’t pretend.
“Stay away from all of them,” he said, catching up with me after the last period. “Celestine" Maddox. Elara. Dorian. Me too, while you’re at it.”
“That’s not really how this works.”
“It’s exactly how this works if you want to stay alive.”
That night, someone threw a drink at me in the courtyard, laughing while it soaked through my shirt. Before I could even turn around, Riven was there, gripping the boy’s wrist hard enough that he yelped.
“Touch her again,” Riven said, “and I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you do with that hand.”
The boy ran. I stood there dripping and stunned.
“Why do you keep doing that?” I asked.
“Doing what?”
“Showing up. Every time something happens to me, you’re there.”
He didn’t answer. He just walked away, and I didn’t know if I felt protected or hunted.
Two days later, I found an old hidden room behind the library, a door disguised as a bookshelf that I only noticed because the wood didn’t match. Inside was a mess of old photographs, newspaper clippings, and handwriting I recognized as Seraphine’s.
Riven found me there an hour later.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” he said.
“Then why do you look like you already knew this room existed?”
He didn’t answer that either. We argued in whispers, standing close enough that I could feel the heat coming off him, and at some point his hand brushed mine reaching for the same photograph.
Neither of us moved away right away. That’s when I saw it. A thin white scar across the back of his hand, curved like a crescent moon.
I had seen that scar before. In the photograph. The one from the night Seraphine died, the one with me standing in the bell tower.
“Where did you get that scar?” I asked.
His whole body went rigid.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. I’ve seen it before. In a photo from the night she died.”
“Drop it, Vespera.”
“Tell me the truth.”
He looked at me for a long moment, something desperate and pained behind his eyes, and then he turned and walked out of the room without answering.
~~~
I didn’t find out the truth that night. Not from him, I found it waiting for me on my laptop. My dorm room looked untouched when I got back. Nothing stolen, nothing broken. But my laptop was open on my desk, screen glowing, when I was certain I had closed it before I left that morning.
A video file sat on the desktop. No name, no date, I clicked it with my hands shaking. Seraphine’s face filled the screen. Alive and standing inside the bell tower, three years younger, three years before she died there.
She looked straight into the camera, straight at me, like she had somehow known I would be the one watching this exact moment years later.
“If you are watching this,” she said, “Vespera is already back.”
My breath caught in my throat. The video kept playing. Seraphine’s eyes were wet, her voice shaking, like she was running out of time to say what she needed to say.
“And Riven Ashcroft,” she said, “is the reason I am dead.”
The screen went black….
- Writer
