ARIA'S POV
The voicemail plays again, and I press the phone so hard against my ear it hurts.
"Aria, something's wrong. Victoria won't—"
Then come the sounds that haunt my nightmares. Shuffling. A grunt. Daniel's voice rising in panic: "No! Wait—"
A scream cuts through the darkness.
Then nothing.
Silence.
I hit replay. My finger knows exactly where the button is. I've done this a thousand times in the past six months. Maybe more.
"Aria, something's wrong. Victoria won't—"
My apartment is dark except for the glow from my laptop screen. Pizza boxes are stacked in the corner. I haven't left this room in three days. My hair is greasy and tangled. I don't care.
On the wall in front of me, I've taped dozens of photographs. Daniel smiling at graduation. Daniel at the coffee shop where we met. Daniel the day he got accepted to Blackwood University's graduate program.
And in the center, written in red marker: WHO IS VICTORIA?
Around it, I've drawn connections with string. Police reports. News articles. Witness statements. It looks like something from a crime show, but this is my life now.
Daniel is dead, and everyone wants me to move on.
But I can't. I won't.
Because Daniel didn't fall off that cliff by accident.
My boyfriend was murdered.
"Aria, something's wrong. Victoria won't—"
I squeeze my eyes shut. The police detective's words echo in my head: "Miss Lin, I understand you're grieving, but the evidence is clear. Your boyfriend went hiking alone at night. He slipped. It was a tragic accident."
Lies. All lies.
Daniel hated hiking. He was terrified of heights—wouldn't even go on roller coasters. And he never would have gone to some nature reserve at night by himself.
Plus, there's Victoria's name in that voicemail. The last word Daniel ever said to me.
Who is she? What wouldn't she do?
My phone suddenly buzzes with a video call. Maya's face fills the screen. My best friend looks worried, her dark curls pulled into a messy bun.
"Aria, please tell me you've eaten something today," Maya says.
I don't answer.
Maya's face softens. "Babe, you've been in that apartment for six months. This isn't healthy. Daniel wouldn't want—"
"Don't," I snap. "Don't tell me what Daniel would want. Daniel is dead, Maya. And nobody cares except me."
"That's not true—"
"The police closed the case in two weeks!" My voice cracks. "Two weeks, Maya. They didn't even question Victoria, whoever she is. They just said 'accident' and moved on."
Maya is quiet for a moment. Then she leans closer to her camera. "So what are you going to do?"
I take a deep breath. This is the moment. The decision I've been building toward for months.
"I'm going to Blackwood University," I say. "I'm going to find out what really happened. I'm going to find Victoria. And I'm going to prove Daniel was murdered."
Maya's eyes go wide. "Aria, no. That's crazy. You can't just—"
"I already applied," I interrupt. "As a transfer student. Criminal psychology major. The same program Daniel was in."
"Under your real name? They'll know who you are!"
"No." I pull out a folder from my desk and hold it up to the camera. Inside are documents—transcripts, recommendation letters, a new student ID. "I'm not Aria Lin anymore. Meet Aria Chen."
Maya's mouth falls open. "You made a fake identity? That's illegal!"
"I need your help, Maya." My voice is steady now. Determined. "You're the best hacker I know. I need you to make these documents completely real in the university's system. I need a full background that nobody can trace."
"Aria, if you get caught—"
"I won't get caught. I'll blend in. Do my classes. Make friends. And I'll investigate from the inside." I lean closer to the camera. "Someone at that school knows what happened to Daniel. And I'm going to find them."
Maya stares at me for a long moment. I can see her thinking, weighing the risks.
Finally, she sighs. "Okay. I'll help you. But Aria, please be careful. If someone really did kill Daniel... they might come after you too."
"I'm counting on it," I say quietly.
We spend the next two hours going over details. Maya's fingers fly across her keyboard as she hacks into Blackwood University's database. She creates a full student record for Aria Chen—grades, previous schools, even a fake high school yearbook photo.
"You'll need to change your appearance," Maya warns. "Your picture was in all those news articles about Daniel's death. Someone might recognize you."
I pick up scissors from my desk and gather my long black hair. Without hesitating, I cut. Long strands fall to the floor. Then I hold up a box of hair dye—auburn red.
"Way ahead of you," I say.
Maya shakes her head. "You're really doing this."
"I have to. For Daniel."
Three hours later, I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. The girl looking back is a stranger. Short auburn hair frames my face. I look older. Harder. Nothing like the happy girl in those photos with Daniel.
Good.
That girl died the night Daniel did.
My phone buzzes with an email notification. I open it, and my heart stops.
BLACKWOOD UNIVERSITY ADMISSIONS
Dear Miss Chen,
We are pleased to inform you that your transfer application has been accepted...
I did it. I'm in.
I forward the email to Maya. Within seconds, she video calls again.
"You're really doing this," she says. "When do you leave?"
"Tomorrow. Classes start in three days."
Maya bites her lip. "Aria... promise me you'll call every day. And if anything feels wrong, if you're in danger, you'll get out of there immediately."
"I promise," I lie.
We say goodbye, and I'm alone again with Daniel's voicemail.
"Aria, something's wrong. Victoria won't—"
I make myself a promise in the darkness: I will find Victoria. I will find the truth. And I will make whoever killed Daniel pay.
Even if it destroys me.
I start packing. Clothes. Toiletries. My laptop with all my research. And hidden at the bottom of my bag—Daniel's watch, the one they returned to me with his belongings. I hold it to my chest.
"I'm coming, baby," I whisper. "I'm going to get you justice."
As I zip up my bag, my phone buzzes again. Unknown number. I almost ignore it, but something makes me answer.
"Hello?"
Heavy breathing fills the line. Then a voice—soft, female, and chilling—whispers four words that freeze my blood:
"Stay away from Blackwood."
The call disconnects.
I stand there, phone shaking in my hand, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Someone knows. Someone knows I'm coming.
And they're warning me off.
Which means I'm right. Daniel was murdered. And his killer is still at Blackwood University.
Waiting.