Sam's POV
The next day arrived wrapped in dull clouds and the faint promise of rain.
Sam moved through the morning like she was half-awake — brushing her hair, buttoning her uniform, hearing Aunt Luna and Aunt Dena chatting faintly in the kitchen below. Everything felt normal, almost comforting… yet her mind refused to settle.
The drawing on the notice board. Liam's unreadable stare. The whisper in her head that refused to fade.They all spun together like pieces of a puzzle that didn't quite fit.
By the time she reached school, the corridors buzzed with life again. Laughter, the slam of lockers, the rustle of notebooks.And then — Zoe's voice.
"Sam!"
Sam turned to see her friend jogging toward her, her ponytail bouncing, her smile as bright as ever. But there was something else behind that smile today — a hint of determination.
"Morning," Sam greeted, clutching her books tighter.
"Morning," Zoe replied. Then, without warning, she grabbed Sam's arm. "Come with me."
"What? Where?"
Zoe just grinned. "You'll see."
The art room was empty except for the scent of paint and rain-soaked air drifting through the open window. Sam blinked, confused, as Zoe nudged her toward a table — where Liam Fernandez was already standing.
Her heart sank. "You've got to be kidding me."
Liam looked just as unimpressed. "What's this supposed to be, Zoe?"
Zoe folded her arms. "A peace treaty. You two are going to talk."
Sam frowned. "Talk? About what — how he thinks I'm hiding something?"
Liam scoffed. "You make it sound like I accused you of murder."
"You practically did."
"Okay, enough!" Zoe's voice cut through the tension, sharp but calm. "You're both exhausting, you know that? You keep glaring like enemies in some drama, but maybe if you actually talked, you'd see you're not that different."
Sam crossed her arms. "We're nothing alike."
Liam met her gaze, cool but quieter now. "I wouldn't be so sure."
The silence stretched. Rain tapped against the glass. Zoe leaned back against a desk, watching them like a referee in an invisible match.
Sam finally sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Fine. Talking. What do you want me to say, Liam?"
He hesitated. For once, he didn't have a sharp reply ready. "That drawing yesterday… it bothered you too, didn't it?"
Sam froze, caught off guard. "I—"
"It wasn't mine," he continued, voice low. "But whoever made it knew something. About the fire. About you."
Her throat tightened. "How would you—"
"Because I've seen that handwriting before," Liam said quietly. "In old files from my father's company. The ones connected to the Rivera case."
Sam's breath hitched. "The… what?"
Zoe straightened, sensing the air shift. "Liam—"
But he didn't stop. "Your family's fire wasn't an accident, Sam."
The words fell like thunder.
For a heartbeat, Sam couldn't breathe. The room felt smaller, the rain outside louder, every sound distant.
Zoe stepped forward, her tone softer now. "That's why I brought you both here. Because whatever this is, it's not something either of you can face alone."
Sam's mind raced — flashes of orange light, smoke, her own screams echoing through the night. The voice whispering It wasn't your fault.
Liam took a step closer, careful, his tone no longer sharp but uncertain. "Look… I shouldn't have pushed you before. I just—" He exhaled. "There's more to this than either of us knows. And I think someone wants us to find out."
Sam looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time without anger. There was something in them — not arrogance, not pity — but a quiet understanding. The kind born from loss.
Zoe smiled faintly, breaking the silence. "See? You didn't explode. Progress."
Sam let out a shaky laugh. "You're impossible."
"Maybe," Zoe said with a wink. "But now you're allies. Whether you like it or not."
For the first time, Sam didn't argue. Liam didn't either.
Outside, the rain began to fall harder, drumming softly against the windows — a steady rhythm marking the fragile start of something new.
Liam's POV
He hadn't planned on saying it — about the fire, or his father's connection. But when he saw the look on Sam's face, the mix of pain and confusion, he couldn't stop himself.
Maybe Zoe was right. Maybe they did need each other — if not as friends yet, then as two people who shared the same shadows.
As he left the art room, he heard Zoe's laughter behind him and Sam's quieter one following after. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
And for the first time in a long while, Liam felt something shift — not in guilt, not in anger, but in possibility.
Author's POV
Three hearts.Three paths now crossing.Fate, patient and deliberate, had tied its first knot.
The fire of the past was no longer just a memory — it was a signal.And this fragile alliance was only the spark.