Analie stood in front of the antique mirror in Aunt Claire's hallway, staring at her own
reflection. Her eyes, once soft with grief, had grown sharper darker. The face staring back at
her didn't feel like hers anymore. It was a version shaped by loss, sharpened by truth.
Chris had smiled at her yesterday.
The same smile he'd worn in her vision the night he and Ethan had argued in the ruins.
She exhaled shakily. A part of her still wanted to deny it. Wanted to believe she had
misread it, misremembered the moment. But the lighter in her jacket pocket said
otherwise. To E. From C. That wasn't just a memory. It was a clue. A confession etched in
brass.
Aunt Claire stepped quietly into the hallway, watching her. "You saw something, didn't
you?"
Analie nodded, not turning from the mirror. "A memory. Selene showed it to me… or maybe
it pulled me in. I don't know how to explain it." Her fingers traced the edge of the old frame.
"Ethan and Chris. They fought. That night. He gave him the lighter I found."
Claire's lips tightened. "And now you're sure."
"Yes." Her voice wavered, but her eyes didn't. "Chris had something to do with Ethan's
death."
Claire walked over, her hand gently resting on Analie's shoulder. "Then you have to be
careful now. People who hide things who wear masks that convincing don't like when
someone sees through them."
"I know," Analie whispered. "That's why I have to play along. At least for now."
Claire turned to face her, brow raised. "You're going to keep seeing him?"
"I have to. If I push him away too soon, he'll bury everything deeper or worse, disappear. I
need to know why he did it. I need to see it in him."
Claire was quiet for a long moment. "Then don't go alone. Not without a way to protect yourself."
Analie touched the pendant at her chest, feeling the faint warmth pulse again. "I think
Selene's already given me something."
That evening, Chris arrived at her door.
His knock was light, patient. He smiled when she opened it genuine, casual. Almost
perfect.
"Hey," he said, holding up two paper cups. "I thought you could use some tea. Chamomile,
your favourite. Or… still your favourite?"
Analie nodded, stepping aside. "It is. Thanks."
They sat in the small living room, the silence between them no longer entirely comfortable.
She studied him, how his fingers rested lightly on the cup, how his gaze lingered a moment
too long on her face.
"I heard they're reopening part of the west campus," he said casually. "Remember that
broken greenhouse by the chemistry block?"
"Yeah." Her voice was neutral. She could hear her own heartbeat louder than his words.
"They're saying it'll be turned into a memorial garden. For students who passed too soon. I
thought about Ethan."
He sipped his tea.
Analie set hers down untouched.
"Did you ever go out there with him?" she asked, her voice gentle.
Chris glanced at her. "Once or twice. Back when we still hung out. After you came into the
picture, he got… distant."
She nodded slowly. "Did that bother you?"
He chuckled, but there was a flicker of something behind it. "A little. I missed our rhythm. But l was happy for him. For both of you."
A beat of silence.
Then she said, "I went out there yesterday. The ruins behind the library."
His eyes flickered.
"Found an old lighter." She tilted her head. "It had your initials."
He didn't blink. "Oh yeah? That was… probably a birthday gift. I'd forgotten about that."
Lie. It was too smooth.
Analie smiled softly. "I guess the past has a way of resurfacing."
Chris leaned back, gaze narrowing slightly. "Is something bothering you?"
Analie met his eyes. "Just memories. They've been coming back in strange ways."
Chris held her gaze, his mask almost perfect. But there was tension in his jaw. A glimmer of
calculation behind his charm.
She saw it now. Clearly.
He wasn't just a grieving friend. He was someone keeping his lies tightly wound and she
had just pulled one of the threads.
Later that night, when he finally left, Selene appeared in her mirror again her reflection
shimmering beside Analie's own.
"You're close," Selene said softly. "But masks do not fall willingly. You must be ready when
his cracks."
Analie nodded.
"I will be."
Because now she wasn't just mourning Ethan.
She was hunting for the truth.