Mira's POV
I couldn't sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I felt Marcus's hands around my throat. Felt the air being squeezed out of my lungs. Saw Victoria's face in the warehouse doorway, smiling like she'd already won.
So I lay in the unfamiliar bed in the safe house, staring at the ceiling, counting the hours until Monday.
Thirty-four hours. Thirty-three. Thirty-two.
"Mira?" Mom's voice came from the other bed. "You awake?"
"Yeah."
"Me too." She was quiet for a moment. "We can still leave. Right now. Pack up and go. Dante would understand."
"No he wouldn't. And I wouldn't either." I sat up, hugging my knees to my chest. "Mom, if we run now, Victoria wins. Forever. Is that what you want?"
"I want you safe."
"I'll never be safe as long as she's out there. Don't you see? She found us at Dante's warehouse. She tracked us down in hours. If we run, she'll find us again. And again. Until..." I touched my throat, the bruises tender under my fingers. "Until Marcus finishes what he started."
Mom got out of her bed and came to sit next to me. She wrapped her arms around me like she used to when I was little and had nightmares.
"When did you get so brave?" she whispered.
"I'm not brave. I'm terrified."
"Brave people are always terrified. That's what makes them brave." She kissed the top of my head. "Your father would be proud of you."
My chest tightened. Dad died when I was eight—a car accident, sudden and stupid and unfair. He'd been the bravest person I knew. A firefighter who ran into burning buildings while everyone else ran out.
"You think?" I asked.
"I know. He always said the hardest thing in the world was standing up when everyone else was trying to push you down." She pulled back to look at me. "That's what you're doing, baby. Standing up."
We sat like that for a while, just holding each other in the darkness.
Then my burner phone buzzed.
I grabbed it, heart racing. A text from an unknown number:
Hello, Mira. Sleep well? Tomorrow's going to be such an exciting day. I've got so many surprises planned. Hope you're ready. - V
My hands shook. "She's texting me. On the burner. The untraceable burner that nobody knows about except us and Dante."
Mom grabbed the phone and stared at it. "How is that possible?"
Another text came through:
Did you really think you could hide from me? I told you, I can ALWAYS find you. Always. Sweet dreams, little mouse.
I grabbed the phone back and typed furiously: How did you get this number?
The response was immediate: I have friends everywhere. Even in places you think are safe. Even people you think you can trust. Nobody's coming to save you tomorrow, Mira. You're all alone. Just like you've always been.
"I'm calling Dante," Mom said, reaching for her own burner.
But before she could dial, my phone rang. Dante's name on the screen.
I answered. "She's texting me. Victoria. On this phone. The one that's supposed to be—"
"I know. She texted me too." His voice was tight with barely controlled anger. "Someone in my organization is feeding her information. I'm handling it."
"Handling it how?"
"You don't want to know. But I can promise you, by morning, the leak will be plugged. Permanently."
The way he said "permanently" made my stomach flip.
"Dante, you can't just—"
"I can. And I will. This person put you in danger. In my world, that has consequences." He paused. "Are you okay? Did the texts scare you?"
"Of course they scared me! She knows where we are. She knows everything!"
"She knows you're in a safe house somewhere outside the city. That's all. She doesn't have the exact location, doesn't know how to get here. My guys would see her coming from a mile away." His voice softened slightly. "You're safe, Mira. I promise."
"You keep promising that. But people keep finding me. Keep hurting me."
"I know." He sounded genuinely sorry. "I know. And I'm going to fix it. By Monday night, Victoria Sterling won't be a threat to you anymore."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because I'm very good at destroying people who cross me." He said it matter-of-factly, like he was commenting on the weather. "Now, try to get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a long day."
"Dante, wait. What if... what if I can't do it? What if I get to school and I just freeze up? What if I'm not strong enough?"
The line was quiet for so long I thought he'd hung up.
Then: "You want to know the truth? The real, honest truth?"
"Yes."
"You probably will freeze up at some point. You'll probably be terrified the whole day. You'll probably want to run and hide a hundred different times." He paused. "But you'll do it anyway. Because that's who you are. You came back to my warehouse tonight even though you were scared. You're going back to school tomorrow even though you're scared. Being scared doesn't stop you. That's what makes you strong."
Tears burned in my eyes. "I don't feel strong."
"Nobody ever does. Not really. But you are. Trust me."
After we hung up, I tried again to sleep. This time, with Mom holding my hand, I managed a few hours of restless, nightmare-filled rest.
---
Sunday morning came too fast and too slow at the same time.
Mom made breakfast—scrambled eggs from the pantry supplies. We ate in silence, both of us thinking about tomorrow.
Around ten AM, Marco showed up with supplies. More food, fresh clothes in my size, and a small black box.
"From the boss," he said, handing it to me. "Open it."
Inside was a necklace—a simple silver chain with a small pendant. It looked normal, pretty even.
"It's a camera," Marco explained. "And a microphone. Records everything in 1080p, streams it directly to a secure server. Battery lasts twelve hours. Victoria won't even know you're recording her."
I held the necklace up to the light. The pendant was tiny, maybe the size of a dime. "This is really a camera?"
"Latest tech. We use them for surveillance operations." He showed me how to turn it on and off with a specific twist of the pendant. "Dante wants you wearing this the second you step on school property tomorrow. Keep it on all day. Record everything."
"What if Victoria sees it and gets suspicious?"
"She won't. It looks like regular jewelry. Lots of girls at Westwood wear stuff like this." He pulled out another item—a small device that looked like a phone charm. "This is a panic button. You press it, and every guy I have stationed around the school converges on your location in under sixty seconds. Use it if you're in danger."
My hands shook as I took the panic button. "How many people are you putting on the school?"
"Six inside, four outside, two in vehicles doing constant sweeps of the perimeter. You'll never be more than thirty seconds away from help."
"Victoria will notice if there are strange men walking around campus."
Marco smiled slightly. "They won't look like strange men. Some will be dressed as maintenance workers. One's going as a substitute teacher. Another as a parent volunteering in the library. Nobody will know they're there."
"Except Victoria. If she has someone feeding her information..."
"The leak's been handled," Marco said flatly. "As of three AM this morning, everyone in our organization was interrogated. The person who was talking to Victoria has been... dealt with."
I didn't ask what "dealt with" meant. I didn't want to know.
Marco stayed for an hour, going over the plan for Monday in excruciating detail. Where I should go, what I should do, how to stay in public spaces as much as possible. He gave me a schedule showing where his men would be stationed throughout the day.
"One more thing," he said as he was leaving. "The boss wanted me to tell you—if at any point you want to abort, just say the word. You're not locked into this. You can change your mind right up until you walk through those school doors."
"I'm not changing my mind," I said.
"Good. Because between you and me? Victoria Sterling deserves everything that's coming to her."
After Marco left, Mom and I spent the afternoon trying to distract ourselves. We played cards. Watched a movie on the tablet Marco had brought. Made lunch. Talked about anything except tomorrow.
But tomorrow hung over everything like a storm cloud.
Around four PM, my burner phone rang. Dante again.
"Just checking in," he said. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm okay. Nervous."
"That's normal. Listen, I wanted to go over a few things. Rules for tomorrow."
"Rules?"
"First rule: Stay visible. Don't go anywhere alone if you can help it. Bathroom, locker, anywhere—try to have people around."
"Okay."
"Second rule: Don't engage. If Victoria or her friends try to start something, don't fight back. Don't argue. Just let the camera record it and walk away if you can."
"That's going to be hard."
"I know. But we need her on video being the aggressor. If you fight back, she'll twist it to make herself look like the victim."
He was right. I hated that he was right.
"Third rule: Trust your instincts. If something feels wrong, it probably is. Use the panic button. Better safe than sorry."
"Got it."
"And fourth rule—the most important one." His voice got serious. "If at any point this becomes too much, if you're in over your head, if you think you're in real danger that my guys can't stop... you run. Forget the plan, forget the recording, forget everything. You get yourself to safety. Understood?"
"But if I run—"
"You'll be alive. That's all that matters." He paused. "Promise me, Mira. Promise me you'll run if you have to."
"I promise."
"Good. Now, get some rest tonight. Real rest. Tomorrow's going to be the hardest day of your life. But you're going to survive it. And when it's over, Victoria Sterling is going to wish she'd never heard your name."
That night, I lay in bed again, staring at the ceiling again, counting down the hours.
Twelve hours until school. Eleven. Ten.
Mom was snoring softly in the other bed. I envied her ability to sleep.
My phone buzzed. Another text from Victoria:
Last chance to run, little mouse. Tomorrow, I'm going to destroy you. Completely. Publicly. In front of everyone. And there's nothing you or your mobster friend can do to stop me. See you at 8 AM. Don't be late.
I stared at that message for a long time.
Then I typed back: See you at 8 AM. I won't be late. And Victoria? This time, I'm not running.
I hit send before I could chicken out.
Her response came immediately: Then you're even dumber than I thought. Sweet dreams, Mira. They'll be your last good ones.
I turned off the phone and pulled the covers up to my chin.
Tomorrow, I would walk back into Westwood Academy. Back into Victoria's territory. Back into the place that had become my personal hell.
But this time, I wouldn't be alone.
This time, I would have proof.
This time, the monster was going to lose.
I just had to survive long enough to make it happen.
Outside, the wind picked up, rattling the windows of the safe house. It sounded like whispers. Like warnings.
Like the calm before a storm.
I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.
Tomorrow was coming whether I was ready or not.
And Victoria Sterling was waiting.