Chapter 6
627 Words
Between Love and Deception
Nathan's mind raced as he ran through the cold streets. The revelation that the girl he had been seeing wasn’t truly Janelle burned in his chest. Who—or what—was she? And if she wasn’t Janelle, then where was the real one?
His heart clenched at the thought.
He had two choices: walk away and pretend none of this happened, or dive deeper into the darkness surrounding the Madrigal family.
And he already knew which one he would choose.
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That night, he found himself standing outside Janelle’s mansion again. The security was tighter, but he knew a way in—one Janelle had once shown him when they had sneaked out together. Scaling the stone wall, he slipped through the back garden, keeping to the shadows.
Then, he saw her.
She was standing by her bedroom window, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders, bathed in the silver glow of the moonlight. For a moment, she looked exactly like the girl he had fallen for.
But she wasn’t.
Still, he had to know.
Taking a deep breath, he climbed up to the balcony, slipping inside as silently as he could.
But she had already sensed him.
"You never learn, do you?" she murmured, not even turning around.
His breath hitched at the familiarity of her voice, the way it pulled him in even when he knew it wasn’t her. “Tell me where Janelle is.”
She turned slowly, her dark eyes locking onto his. “She’s gone, Nathan,” she said softly. “Accept it.”
He stepped forward. “No. I don’t believe you.”
She sighed, crossing the room to him. The way she moved, the way she carried herself—it was so much like the Janelle he loved, yet there was a sharpness to her now, a danger.
“Then why are you here?” she whispered, standing close enough that he could feel the heat of her body.
His fists clenched at his sides. “To find the truth.”
Her lips curled into a smirk as she reached out, running a finger down his chest. "Are you sure that’s all?"
His breath hitched. "You’re not her."
"But I feel like her," she whispered, pressing closer. "I sound like her. I even remember how you kissed her."
Nathan swallowed hard, his heart hammering. "Stop playing games with me."
She leaned in, her lips barely brushing against his. "But you liked the games we used to play, didn't you?"
His body betrayed him, heat pooling in his chest as his hands instinctively went to her waist. She felt real—too real. But his mind screamed at him: She’s not Janelle.
"You're trying to distract me," he murmured.
Her fingers trailed up his arm, slow and teasing. "Maybe," she admitted. "But that doesn't mean you don't want it."
Nathan clenched his jaw. He knew this was dangerous, that he shouldn’t let himself fall into this, but the memories of Janelle flooded his mind—the nights they spent tangled together, whispering promises, the way she made him feel like the world outside didn’t matter.
This version of her—whoever she was—knew exactly how to use that against him.
"Tell me where she is," he said, his voice hoarse.
She leaned in, pressing her lips to his ear. "Find me in your dreams, Nathan."
Then, everything went black.
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Nathan woke up hours later in his own bed, his heart pounding. His body ached as if he had actually been with her. His mind swirled with confusion.
Had it been real? Or had she done something to him?
And most importantly—what was she?
One thing was clear. This wasn't over.
- Writer
