Chapter 58 Chapter 58
I stood at the end of the driveway, the cold night air biting through my thin shirt. The girl in the silver sedan—Maya—stepped fully into the light of the streetlamp. She didn't look like the victim of some dark conspiracy; she just looked tired.
"I saw the posts," she said softly, walking toward me. "The digital board at the school. People still talk, Cass. I wanted to make sure you were okay. And I wanted to make sure Jace didn't let Marvin do to you what he did to me."
I blinked, the yellowed pages in my hand feeling like lead. "What he did to you? She told me Jace was the one who set the trap. She said Jace let Marvin take the fall for something he didn't do."
Maya let out a dry, sad laugh. She looked up at the house, her eyes landing on the window where Jace and Marvin’s father lived. "That’s the story their father told everyone. It’s the story Marvin tells himself so he doesn't have to feel like a monster. But Jace... Jace is the only reason I’m standing here."
Inside the house, the front door creaked open. Jace stepped out onto the porch, his silhouette dark against the warm light of the foyer. He looked like he was bracing for an execution.
"Maya?" he whispered, his voice cracking.
She nodded at him. "Hi, Jace. I was just telling her the truth. The real truth."
She turned back to me, her expression hardening. "Marvin didn't just 'bully' me. He was obsessed. He cornered me that night at the old school, and Jace found us. Jace tried to pull him off me, and Marvin swung. Jace didn't 'let' him take the fall. Jace begged their father to keep Marvin out of jail. He let everyone think he was part of the mess just so Marvin wouldn't lose his entire future. He’s been protecting that boy his whole life, and Marvin rewards him by trying to steal everything he loves."
I looked at the pages in my hand. My own panicked, confused handwriting from a year ago. I realized then that I had written those words when I was listening to the rumors, before I ever knew Jace. I had recorded the lie because the lie was the only thing anyone was telling.
I looked at Jace. He hadn't moved from the porch. He looked like he was waiting for me to scream, to run, to tell him it was over.
"He's not the architect of the fire, Cass," Maya said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "He's the one who stands in it so no one else gets burned."
I didn't wait for her to say anything else. I turned and ran back up the driveway, my heart pounding a rhythm of pure, unadulterled relief and guilt. I reached the porch and practically threw myself at him.
Jace caught me, his arms wrapping around me with a desperation that told me he’d been holding his breath for a year.
"I'm sorry," I sobbed into his chest. "I'm so sorry I believed them. I'm sorry I wrote those things."
"It's okay," he whispered, burying his face in my hair. "I should have told you. I just... I didn't want you to have to carry the weight of my family. I wanted us to be simple."
"Nothing about us is simple," I said, pulling back to look at him. "But it's real. I know that now."
She—Zayelle—was standing in the doorway, her face pale. She saw Maya standing at the end of the driveway. She saw me in Jace’s arms. The "weapon" she had used—my old diary—had just turned into the evidence of Jace’s sacrifice.
"This doesn't change what the school thinks," she muttered, though her voice lacked its usual bite.
"I don't care what the school thinks," Jace said, looking her right in the eye. "And I don't care about the diary anymore. You can keep the pages, Zayelle. They’re just paper. This?" He squeezed my hand. "This is what matters."
The brother—Marvin—stepped out onto the porch then. He saw Maya. He froze, his face going a ghastly shade of white. The cocky, aggressive bully vanished, replaced by a boy who was finally staring his past in the face.
"Maya," he breathed.
She didn't look at him with hate. She looked at him with a cold, distant pity. "Go inside, Marvin. You've done enough."
Marvin didn't argue. He turned and walked into the house, his shoulders slumped, his shadow trailing behind him like a heavy shroud. For the first time, the "Twin War" felt like it was over.
Jace looked at me, the moon reflecting in his eyes—the same warmth I had seen at the reservoir, but stronger now.
"Stay?" he asked.
"Always," I replied.