Elizabeth didn't leave the living room for almost an hour after Mara vanished. Her hands were still cold, her chest tight, her breathing shallow—like her body was slowly catching up to the dread that hadn't settled yet.
Mara's words replayed in her mind, over and over:
"Kian cannot die until you stand beside him.
And you cannot live unless you do."
The warning sat in her stomach like poisoned metal.
But something else lingered too.
Something that made her skin prickle long before she heard the soft knock at her door.
Three slow taps.
Then silence.
Elizabeth didn't move.
The air grew thicker. Heavier.
Another knock—this one softer, but urgent.
"Elizabeth…"
His voice.
Kian.
Fear shot down her spine like electricity.
She didn't want to open that door.
Didn't want to see him again.
Didn't want to smell that familiar scent of cologne that once made her dizzy, or look into the eyes that once saw her as something to break, or hear the voice that once convinced her that everything was her fault.
But the knocking continued.
And worse—the lights flickered.
Something else was outside with him.
She inhaled sharply and stepped toward the door, each step a betrayal of her instincts.
When she opened it, Kian looked… nothing like the boy she once knew.
His clothes were wrinkled, his hair disheveled, his eyes bloodshot and wild—like he hadn't slept in days.
Or maybe like sleep no longer existed for him.
"Kian," she said, her voice tighter than she intended.
He exhaled in relief. "Thank God. I thought you wouldn't open."
"I almost didn't."
His jaw clenched, but he nodded. "Fair."
He stepped inside without waiting—like old habits had returned. Elizabeth's body tensed automatically, but she didn't stop him.
Not this time.
He walked to the center of her living room, then turned to her, shoulders hunched like he was carrying something crushing.
"Elizabeth… there's something you don't know."
She crossed her arms. "I know a lot of things. The deaths. The imbalance. The fact that Karma is after you—"
"No," he interrupted, shaking his head violently. "Not that. Not the supernatural crap. I know you know that now."
His chest rose and fell sharply.
He stepped closer.
His voice dropped.
"I mean the lie I told you. The one I told everyone."
Elizabeth stiffened, flashbacks snapping against her ribs like broken glass.
"Kian," she warned. "Do not try to twist what happened back then. Do not start rewriting—"
"I'm not rewriting anything," he said quickly. "I'm adding what I never told you. What I didn't have the courage to say."
She faltered.
Kian swallowed, and his eyes flicked away. "I didn't only hurt you."
Elizabeth froze.
Something cold slithered down her spine.
"What?" she whispered.
He nodded slowly. "There was someone else."
Her stomach twisted violently.
"Kian, don't play games—"
"I'm not," he insisted. "It was before you. Before I ever met you. Before Daniel and I started hanging around your street."
He dragged a trembling hand through his hair.
"I hurt a girl. Badly."
Elizabeth's breath caught.
"Who?"
Kian swallowed hard.
"Her name was Amara."
The name hit Elizabeth like a stone through glass.
"Amara?" she repeated. "Your old neighbor? The girl who moved away before we met?"
He winced. "She didn't move away."
Elizabeth felt the world tilt.
Kian's hands were shaking now. "Her parents sent her away because of what I did."
Her mouth went dry. "Kian… what did you do?"
He took a step back like he was physically ill.
"I lied," he whispered. "To everyone. To her parents. To Daniel. To Lucas. To you."
The lights flickered again—once, then twice, like something unseen was listening, waiting for the confession it had been hungry for.
"What did you do to her?" Elizabeth asked again, her voice breaking this time.
Kian stared at the floor.
"Amara was sixteen," he said. "And I was seventeen. We hung out sometimes… like normal kids. I thought she liked me. I thought we were… I don't know… close."
Elizabeth didn't breathe.
Kian continued, voice raw and shaking:
"One night, her father caught us together. Nothing happened—nothing physical. But he thought… he assumed. And Amara panicked. She accused me of things I didn't do."
Elizabeth's chest tightened.
"But that's not the lie?" she asked quietly.
He shook his head slowly.
"No.
The lie came after."
He lifted his eyes—and for the first time since she'd known him, he looked ashamed. Truly, painfully ashamed.
"Elizabeth… I told people she came on to me. That she was obsessed. That she made everything up because she wanted attention."
Elizabeth's stomach churned.
Her heart pounded in her ears.
"You blamed her?" she whispered.
He nodded, breathing harder.
"I thought I was protecting myself. I thought… I don't know… I thought she'd be fine. That her parents would calm down."
He swallowed.
"But they didn't calm down. They believed everyone else. They believed me."
Elizabeth covered her mouth, horror rising like bile.
"Kian… what happened to her?" she whispered.
His jaw trembled.
"She was sent to a rehabilitation center. For troubled girls."
Elizabeth felt like she'd been punched.
"No…" she breathed.
Kian didn't look up.
"She was there for nearly a year."
Elizabeth's heartbeat turned violent, erratic.
"And when she came back," he continued, "she wouldn't look at anyone. She wouldn't speak. She transferred schools. And then…"
He stopped.
"Then what?" Elizabeth asked, her voice cracking.
Kian exhaled shakily.
"She tried to take her own life."
Elizabeth staggered back, her hand gripping the edge of the couch.
"No," she whispered again. "No, no, no—"
He swallowed tightly. "Her mother told mine. And my parents forced me to apologize—but not the truth. Not the real truth. Just enough to make it go away."
Elizabeth's pulse hammered in her skull.
"You destroyed her," she said, her voice barely human.
His eyes glistened. "I know."
"You ruined her whole life because you were scared," Elizabeth whispered, trembling from head to toe. "You lied to save yourself."
He nodded miserably.
"I did.
And Karma isn't just punishing me for what happened to you.
Amara is where the imbalance started."
Elizabeth's throat closed.
"So she was the first."
"Yes."
"And you never told anyone?"
"No."
The room shook.
A light bulb popped overhead.
Both of them flinched.
A shadow moved across the wall—slow, deliberate, hungry.
Karma had heard.
And it was pleased.
Elizabeth stared at him—really stared—and for the first time, she saw the whole picture. Not just the boy who hurt her. Not just the manipulator Daniel covered for. Not just the liar Lucas defended.
But a pattern.
A chain.
A series of lives he'd shattered without looking back.
And now the darkness wanted justice for all of it.
"Kian," she whispered, backing away, "you didn't just ruin my life. You ruined hers too."
He nodded, shoulders shaking.
"And now," he said quietly, voice breaking, "I think Karma wants us both to face what I caused."
A cold wind swept through the room.
The shadows pulsed.
Karma had chosen its next move.