Footsteps echo down the hall. My pulse spikes. Carrie fumbles with her shirt, her hands shaking, her hair falling in her eyes. Nico slips her cardigan over her shoulders, brushing a kiss against her temple before stepping away, face tight.
“What do we do now?” she whispers, voice raw, fear breaking through the haze.
Jace moves to the door, pressing his ear to the wood. He glances back at me, then at her. “You need to lock us in here, Carrie. Pretend you did it to protect yourself. It’s the only story that’ll hold up.”
She shakes her head, eyes wide. “No.”
I step closer, trying to keep my voice calm. “Carrie, it’s the only way. No one’s going to buy that you let us out on purpose. They’ll blame you, and us, and we’ll all go down. You lock us in, you look scared, you play the part. We’ll back you up.”
She looks at me, fear and doubt battling in her eyes. “But—what if they don’t believe us?”
I put my hands on her shoulders, steadying her, willing her to understand. “You have to trust us. We’ll play along. You just need to sell it. Lock the door, walk out, and go find help. If you’re gone when they find us, you’re safe.”
Nico finds the key, presses it into her palm. “Go, Carrie. Before anyone comes in here.”
She’s breathing hard, glancing from me to Jace to Nico. I squeeze her hand, trying to pour every ounce of trust I have into that touch.
“You can do this,” I say. “It’s the only way. If they even suspect we’re involved, they’ll send us away for good,” I say, keeping my voice low and urgent.
Nico backs me up, his eyes locked on hers. “Or even you, Carrie.”
Footsteps come closer, voices raised. Carrie turns, scrambles to the door, fumbling with the lock. She hesitates, looking back at all of us one last time.
I try not to show how scared I am for her, for all of us. “Go,” I say, softer now. “We’ll be fine.”
She nods, blinking back tears, and slips out, locking the door behind her.
As soon as she’s gone, I look at the other two. My heart’s still pounding. “Now we just hope she’s as good a liar as she is at everything else.”
Jace gives me a dark look, but for once, none of us has anything left to say.
The door bangs open and bright light floods the stacks. Three guards barrel in, boots loud on the tile. They barely glance at me, Jace, or Nico—just bark orders, batons ready.
“On your feet! Hands where I can see ’em!” The lead guard’s voice bounces off the old law books.
We get up, slow and steady, doing our best to look harmless. Jace gives them a blank look. Nico rolls his shoulders, but keeps quiet.
One guard nods at the door. “Move. Let’s go. Single file.”
They shove us out into the main library. Carrie stands off to the side near the front desk, arms crossed, her face the perfect mask of the shaken-up, scared assistant. I catch her eyes for a split second—there’s worry there, but she doesn’t flinch. She plays the part so well it almost hurts.
“What happened?” the younger guard asks her, not even bothering to lower his voice.
“I locked them in,” Carrie says, her voice wavering just enough. “I was scared. The storm—things got loud. I didn’t want anyone getting hurt.”
The guard nods, barely listening, already more interested in her than in us. “You did the right thing,” he says, and turns back to us. “Keep moving.”
We’re marched down the hall, through the checkpoint, and back to our block. Jace and Nico keep their mouths shut. I do too, but my mind won’t stop running.
Inside my cell, the door slams shut behind me with a final, empty clang. I lie back on my bunk and stare up at the ceiling. Every muscle aches from what just happened—sex, adrenaline, fear, all tangled together.
But it’s my mind that won’t quiet down. We got distracted, plain and simple. We should’ve pushed her harder, gotten the truth, made her tell us everything she’s hiding. Instead, we let our need for her take over. I let myself believe she was just ours, just a girl in trouble, not a problem.
I replay the look on her face as the guards marched us out—guilt and longing, and something else I can’t read. Is it all an act? Or am I just looking for a reason to trust her?
We lost control. That’s the truth of it. And I don’t know if it’s going to save us—or ruin everything.
The next morning,the air in the yard is thick with the promise of more rain, the ground muddy underfoot and the sky so low it feels like you could reach up and touch the clouds. I walk a slow circle along the outer fence, hands in my pockets, jaw tight. My head’s still full of last night—Carrie’s body, the heat of her mouth, the sound of her voice, the way she clung to me when the storm peaked. That was real. I felt it in my bones.
