Damon's POV
I can't breathe.
The campus police officer is still talking, something about proper procedures and unauthorized access, but I can't hear him. All I can hear is Celeste's voice on that phone call.
I'll do to you exactly what I did to James.
"Mr. Cross?" The officer touches my arm. "Are you listening? I need you to confirm these girls broke into room 312."
I look at Skylar. She's staring at me with those green eyes that remind me so much of James—that same desperate need for truth, that same stubborn refusal to accept lies.
"I made a mistake," I hear myself say. "I thought they were vandals. But I was wrong. They had permission to be there."
The officer frowns. "Permission from who?"
"From me. I'm James's roommate. I have authority over his belongings until his parents claim them." I'm making this up as I go, but my voice sounds confident. "These girls were helping me pack his things. I forgot I asked them to do it tonight."
Skylar's eyes widen. Riley looks like she might faint from relief.
The officer doesn't look convinced. "That's not what you said on the phone—"
"I was confused. It's been a difficult time." I force my voice to stay steady even though everything inside me is screaming. "I apologize for wasting your time."
The officer studies me for a long moment, then sighs. "Fine. But no more middle-of-the-night packing sessions. This building closes at midnight." He gives Skylar and Riley a stern look. "And you two should know better than to go into locked rooms without proper authorization."
"Yes, sir," they mumble.
The officer leaves, shaking his head.
The moment he's gone, I turn to Skylar. "Play the recording. Now."
"We can't," she says quietly. "The recorder was destroyed. But the file is on that computer." She points to the reception desk.
The desk worker—some freshman who looks terrified—nods quickly. "I can email it to you. Just please don't tell anyone I let them in."
"Send it to all three of us," I say, giving him my email address. My hands won't stop shaking. "And delete any copies you have. This is evidence in a murder investigation. The fewer people who have it, the safer everyone is."
He nods and starts typing fast.
Skylar steps closer to me. "Damon, I know this is hard, but—"
"Hard?" The word comes out like a bark. "My girlfriend just confessed to murdering my best friend. Hard doesn't begin to cover it."
"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm so sorry."
And the thing is, I can tell she means it. She's not happy about being right. She's devastated. Just like me.
My phone buzzes. The email has arrived with an audio file attached.
"I need to hear it," I say. "All of it."
We go to my apartment. I don't invite them—they just follow me, and I don't have the energy to send them away. Riley keeps shooting nervous glances at me like I might explode at any second.
Maybe I will.
I sit on my couch and open the audio file. "How bad is it?"
"Really bad," Skylar says softly. She and Riley sit across from me. "Damon, maybe you should—"
I press play.
James's voice fills my apartment. Alive. Nervous. Making that recording because he knew something was wrong.
I close my eyes and listen to my best friend die.
When Celeste starts talking, something inside me breaks. Her voice—the same voice that's whispered "I love you" to me, that's laughed at my jokes, that's claimed to care about me—is cold and cruel as she drugs James. As she pushes him off that roof.
The scream. James's scream.
I'm going to be sick.
I lunge for the bathroom and throw up everything in my stomach. I hear Skylar and Riley talking quietly in the living room, giving me privacy, but my ears are ringing too loud to hear words.
When I finally come out, they're both watching me with identical worried expressions.
"How long?" My voice sounds destroyed. "How long have you known it was her?"
"We suspected after meeting her three days ago," Skylar says. "But we only had real proof tonight."
Three days. I've been dating a murderer for seven months, and these girls figured it out in three days.
"I'm so stupid," I say, sitting back down. "All this time, she was sleeping next to me, and I had no idea. No idea that she killed him."
"She's good at hiding it," Riley offers. "She had the police fooled. She had everyone fooled."
"Not everyone." I look at Skylar. "You knew from the beginning something was wrong. Why?"
"Because I knew James." Her voice breaks. "And I knew he'd never kill himself. When everyone told me to accept it and move on, I couldn't. Because the truth matters more than being comfortable."
Professor Williams's words from class. The truth matters, even when it costs everything.
"What do we do now?" I ask. "Take this to the police?"
"Celeste said her lawyers will claim the recording is fake," Skylar says. "That it's been edited or manipulated. Rich families can afford really good lawyers."
"So we need more evidence." I stand up and start pacing. My mind is racing, clicking through possibilities. "If she killed James, there has to be physical evidence. The chloroform she used. The clothes she wore. Security footage we haven't found yet."
"We looked through everything online," Riley says. "I hacked the university's security system. The footage from that night has been erased."
"Erased?" I stop pacing. "By who?"
"We assumed by Celeste, but..." Riley looks uncomfortable. "To erase footage from the main security server, you need administrator access. That's not something a student could do."
"So someone helped her?" Skylar's face goes pale. "Someone with authority helped cover up the murder?"
The implications of that hit me hard. If someone inside the university helped Celeste, then this is bigger than we thought.
"We need to find physical evidence," I say firmly. "The recording proves she did it, but if we can find the chloroform or the clothes or something concrete, her lawyers can't explain that away."
"Where would she keep something like that?" Riley asks.
"Her apartment?" Skylar suggests.
I shake my head. "She lives in a sorority house. Too many people around. She'd hide it somewhere private." I think hard. "She has a storage unit. She mentioned it once—said she keeps seasonal clothes there."
"Can you get us in?" Skylar asks.
"Maybe. I know which facility. But breaking into a storage unit is actually illegal, and if we get caught—"
"I don't care about illegal," Skylar interrupts. "James is dead. Celeste is threatening to kill me and Riley. We're way past worrying about breaking minor laws."
She's right. And something about her fierce determination reminds me so much of James that my chest aches.
"Okay," I say. "We go tomorrow during the day when it's busy. We'll blend in better." I look at both of them. "But from now on, you don't go anywhere alone. She's already threatened you. She knows you have the recording. You're both in serious danger."
"What about you?" Riley asks. "You're her boyfriend. When she finds out you know the truth..."
I haven't let myself think about that. About the fact that I've been kissing a murderer. Sleeping next to someone who killed my best friend.
"She won't find out," I say coldly. "Not until we have enough evidence to put her away forever. I'll keep pretending everything's normal."
"Can you do that?" Skylar asks quietly. "Can you pretend you don't know?"
"I have to." I meet her eyes. "For James. I couldn't save him then. But I can get him justice now."
Skylar nods. "Then we work together. All three of us."
"All three of us," I agree.
Riley's phone suddenly buzzes. Then mine. Then Skylar's.
We all look at our screens.
It's a group text from an unknown number. The same number that's been threatening Skylar.
The message is just a photo.
My blood turns to ice.
It's a picture of us. Right now. Sitting in my living room. Taken from outside my apartment window.
Below the photo, a message:
Sweet alliance. But you're forgetting something important. I'm always watching. And if you three think you can plot against me, you're more stupid than James was.
Another text comes through:
Damon, baby, we need to talk. Meet me at our usual spot in 20 minutes. Come alone or your new friends have accidents. xoxo
Skylar grabs my arm. "Don't go. It's obviously a trap."
"If I don't go, she'll hurt you." I pull away. "She just proved she's watching us right now. If she sees all three of us leave together, who knows what she'll do."
"Then we all go," Riley says. "We stay together like you said."
"No." I'm already grabbing my jacket. "I go alone. I meet her. I act normal. And I buy us time to find that evidence."
"Damon—" Skylar starts.
"I've been acting like I love her for seven months when I felt nothing," I interrupt. "I can act for one more night." I look at both of them. "Lock the doors after I leave. Don't open them for anyone. I'll text you when I'm safe."
"Where's your usual spot?" Skylar demands.
"The roof of Whitmore Hall."
The words hang in the air. The same roof where James died.
"She's going to kill you," Skylar says flatly. "That's what this is. She's going to kill you in the same place she killed James."
"Maybe," I admit. "Or maybe she just wants to talk. Either way, I'm going. Because if I don't, you two are her next targets." I head for the door, then pause. "If I'm not back in one hour, take the recording to Detective Kim at the police station. Tell her everything."
"Damon, please—" Skylar's voice breaks.
"One hour," I repeat, and walk out.
I'm halfway to Whitmore Hall when I realize something.
I'm not afraid of dying. I've been half-dead inside since my sister's accident five years ago. Since James died, I've been completely numb.
But for the first time in years, I feel something real. Rage. Determination. Purpose.
If Celeste wants to kill me on that roof, she's welcome to try.
But I'm not going down without answers. I'm not going down without a fight.
I'm going to look her in the eyes and see the monster who's been sleeping beside me. The monster who killed my best friend.
And one way or another, tonight ends with the truth.
I pull open the door to Whitmore Hall. The same building where James died. The same building where my life changed forever.
Time to face the person who destroyed everything.
I start climbing toward the roof.