Chapter 134: The Thirty-Minute Lie
Cassian's POV
I had been calling Milo all morning. He did not pick up once. Every single call went straight to his voicemail, and listening to that recorded voice was making me lose my mind. Outside, the winter snow just kept falling. I finally called Landon, and he told me Milo was hanging out at the small diner down by the town square. I grabbed my keys, threw on my coat, and walked out into the storm.
The drive to the diner was slow and bad. My truck tires slipped twice on the slick ice. I kept staring at the road, my mind spinning fast. If Asher was really standing in that hallway, then every single thing the school told us was a lie. I was terrified that Milo might have deleted all the old photos on his phone. If those pictures were gone, my only proof would disappear forever.
I pushed the door of the diner open, and the little bell above it made a loud ring. I saw Milo sitting in a back booth. He looked totally relaxed, scrolling through his phone and drinking hot cocoa.
I walked over and sat down right across from him. "I need the original file, Milo. The photos you took that night Oliver got hurt."
Milo blinked. He looked totally confused. "You drove all the way out here in a blizzard for an old picture? I don't get why you care so much, man. It is just a random shot of the hallway. I forgot I even had it."
"I just need the copy straight from your phone," I said. I kept my voice low and flat. "Please."
Milo shrugged and slid his phone across the table. "Take whatever you want. I was going to clear them out anyway." I plugged my flash drive into the bottom of his phone. As the bar loaded, Milo leaned back and tried to think about that night. "It was before halftime. Coach Hale was yelling at everyone about how sluggish the guys were playing. He wanted everyone on their best. I remember Landon grabbing my sleeve as we walked into the locker room to grab his band. I just lifted my phone, took one quick picture, and followed everyone out. That is all I remember."
The phone screen showed it was done. I pulled my drive out and slid his phone back to him. Milo had no idea why it mattered. To him, it was just an old picture.
"Thanks, Milo," I muttered.
"Sure, Cassian. See you when school starts again," he said. He threw his coat over his arm and walked out
I drove straight back to my house. spread my papers across the desk. My room was a mess of school reports and old notes. I plugged the drive into my laptop. I ignored everything except the simple file info. I do not know anything about computer databases or camera systems. All I had was the real photo and the school report.
I opened the data on Milo's photo. The time stamp was right there. The file showed the picture was taken at 7:15 PM.
I held the original image up next to the paper from the school. According to the official report, the hallway was completely empty by 6:30 PM, and Asher Carter had left in a cab at 6:45 PM. But Milo’s photo proved Asher was still in school at 7:15 PM.
The photo and the report could not both be true.
Someone had lied about those missing thirty minutes. Whether it was the school or someone else, I did not know yet. But for the first time, I knew I was not going crazy.
A heavy wave of fear hit my chest. I had only found the first crack in a very big lie. If someone was willing to fake an official story to keep a secret, then someone very powerful wanted the truth buried. If I kept digging, I was going to start investigating my brother's case. Then Asher Carter would be my first suspect. Hurting Daphne is not what I plan to do, but finding out the truth is my priority.
By the time I reached Daphne’s house, it was night. I stood on her porch, tired and completely broken inside. I was not ending things because I had solved the mystery. I was running because the pure fear of the lie terrified me.
Daphne opened the front door. Her face lit up with a warm, beautiful smile when she saw me, but the smile died the moment she looked at my eyes.
"Cassian... what's wrong ...?" she asked softly.
I did not answer. I kept my hands shoved deep inside my coat pockets.
"You're shaking," she whispered, taking a step closer.
"I'll be fine," I muttered. My voice sounded tight.
"No, you won't," Daphne said. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around my arm. Her touch was incredibly gentle against my skin.
I almost broke down right there. I wanted to take her hand, lean into her, and tell her about the truth- the version of me I believed I was ready to let go, but I wasn't.
I wanted to let her hold me. I fought against my own heart. My fingers twitched inside my pockets because I wanted to reach for her so badly. But then I remembered Oliver, trapped in his wheelchair, his life ruined by a hidden threat. If these people could rewrite an entire official story to hide a crime.
I forced myself to step back. I pulled away from her touch and stood in the cold air. Daphne froze, her eyes widening as she saw the hollow look on my face.
"We need to stop seeing each other," I said. I forced my voice to sound completely cold and empty. "I don't have room for this anymore, Daphne. I am done."
Daphne's lips shook as the freezing wind blew between us. "What? Why? I heard it is because of what happened at the Hampton house last night? Cassian, you are not ready to let it go, but we can fix this. Don't do this to us."
"There is nothing to fix," I lied flatly. I looked past her shoulder so I would not have to watch the pain on her face. "You are just a distraction. I don't care about us anymore. I should have ended this a long time ago."
Daphne stepped closer, tears falling down her cheeks. "You keep mourning Oliver's injuries like you are supposed to get hurt instead of him. When are you going to let someone choose you instead?"
The words stopped me in my tracks. They cut right through me, but I forced my face to stay completely like stone.
"Goodbye, Daphne," I whispered.
I turned around and walked away. I heard her sob loudly behind me, the sound hurting deep inside my chest, but I did not turn around. The snow erased my footprints almost as quickly as I made them. Whoever had buried those missing thirty minutes thought the truth was gone forever. They were wrong.