Chapter 17 Sera, stay close
Sera's Pov
Whispers cut through the silence like needles.
“Is that her?”
“oh my goodness , look at it—”
“She looks exactly like—”
Caden slowed beside me, gaze narrowing. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered, and something cold curled at the pit of my stomach.
Caden’s arm brushed mine. “Sera… stay close.”
My knees almost buckled. Caden stepped half in front of me, instincts on full alert.
His voice was low. “Who put this up?” No one answered.
I moved closer before he could stop me. My fingers hovered inches from the photo. The girl in it looked a little younger than I was now, her expression soft, almost sad. She had grey eyes instead of silver, but the bone structure was unmistakable. The slope of the nose. The shape of the mouth.
Someone behind me whispered, “Holy crap, that’s her.”
Another snorted. “It has to be edited. No way she has an old photo from, like, the fifties.”
The tape holding the picture had one sentence written beneath it.
‘Who really is Sera Hale?’
“Hey,” Caden murmured, stepping closer. “Hey, look at me, not at them.”
But I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the picture.
“Caden…” I swallowed. “Why does she look like me?”
Before he could answer, a voice cut through the room like silk sliding across glass.
“That,” the voice said calmly, “is the question of the day.”
The crowd rippled. A tall, composed figure walked into the circle. Damien. He moved like he belonged there, like someone had drawn the room around him. Students shifted automatically to give him space.
Caden went rigid beside me.
Damien gave him one polite nod before turning his attention to the photograph.
“Interesting find,” he said. “Though I imagine most of the people here don’t realize just how interesting.”
I felt heat rush to my face. “Damien, did you do this?”
His brows lifted slightly. “If I wanted your attention, I wouldn’t have done it this way.”
Caden stepped between us. “What do you want?”
“Right now?” Damien’s eyes softened, almost too gently. “For her to see the truth first.”
He reached out, not touching the photo yet, but studying it with an expression too complicated to read.
Someone behind me muttered, “Is that her boyfriend too?”
Another hissed, “He looks older. Gross.”
Caden snapped, “Shut it,” without even turning around.
Damien ignored them. His voice was quiet but carried easily. “This is not the only one.”
I stiffened. “What do you mean another?”
Without asking permission, he reached forward and peeled the tape from the corner. The cafeteria held its breath. A second photograph slid free from underneath the first one.
Damien looked at me. “This one was harder to find.”
He handed it to me gently, like it was something fragile. My fingers trembled as I lifted it.
This picture was clearer. Newer. A younger version of me sat on a small wooden swing, silver eyes bright, hair tied in a loose ribbon. Behind her—behind me—was a playground. I knew that place. My chest tightened painfully.
Below it, in faded ink, were words that made my vision tilt.
Selene Ashford, age ten.
Caden sucked in a breath.
“No,” I whispered. “No, this… this can’t be—this isn’t—”
The walls closed in. The chatter of students became white noise, echoing around me like static.
Mia pushed forward through the crowd, her expression softening when she saw my face. “Sera,” she whispered. “oh my goodness … are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” I choked out. “I don’t—Mia, I don’t know what this means.”
Brielle’s voice sliced through the crowd, sharp and triumphant. “It means she lied. Again.”
She shoved through until she stood directly in front of us. “Look at her. I told you all. She’s hiding something. Pretending to be someone she’s not.”
Caden stepped forward, voice low and threatening. “Brielle, walk away.”
“Why?” She folded her arms. “Afraid someone finally exposed your little mystery girl? Who even is she? And why is she in a picture with some dead girl’s name?”
I clenched the photograph so hard the edge dug into my palm.
“Stop it,” I said quietly.
She smirked. “Or what? You gonna slap me again?”
My jaw locked. Before I could speak, Damien stepped forward with a cold, polite smile.
“Brielle,” he said, “if this is your attempt at intelligence, I encourage you to try again when you are less emotionally unstable.”
The cafeteria gasped. Brielle’s face flushed scarlet.
“You don’t get to talk to me—”
“Enough,” Caden snapped.
Even the air froze.
He turned to me. “Do you trust me?”
I swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“Then we’re leaving.”
He took my hand. Students gasped as he pulled me away from the photo, away from Brielle, away from the entire suffocating circle.
Damien watched, expression unreadable. For a moment, something flickered behind his eyes. Worry? Regret? Something darker?
I couldn’t tell.
We made it into the hallway before I could finally breathe again. My legs felt shaky, paper thin.
Caden stopped, turned me gently to face him. “Sera. Look at me.”
I lifted my eyes.
He cupped my face, not rough, not demanding, just steady. “You are not alone. Whatever this is, whatever it means, we’ll figure it out.”
My chest tightened. “What if they’re right? What if this means something’s wrong with me?”
“There is nothing wrong with you,” he said fiercely. “Do you hear me? Nothing.”
A small tremor ran through me.
He let out a slow breath. “Do you recognize the place? The swing set?”
“I… I think so.” The memory felt like a shadow, something I could almost touch but not quite. “It feels familiar. But it shouldn’t.”
“Then let’s go,” he said. “Let’s see it. Together.”
“Together,” I repeated softly.
We stepped outside into the sunlight. The air was crisp, sharp with autumn. Students stared as we passed, whispering behind their hands. Phones were already out. I didn’t want to look.
I kept walking.
Caden stayed at my side like he wasn’t going to let anyone touch me or question me. And for the first time, I didn’t feel like running.
We reached the path leading toward the edge of town. The old road stretched out in front of us, the same direction the playground would be.
I held the second photograph tightly.
“We’ll find answers,” Caden murmured.
“I hope so,” I whispered.
Then my phone buzzed and I glanced down. One message from an unknown number.
You were supposed to leave it buried. The world went still.
I stared at the screen, breath caught in my throat.
Caden leaned over my shoulder. “What is it?”
I showed him.
His entire expression changed. The calm, gentle Caden vanished. Something protective and furious took its place.
He took my hand again. “We keep going.”
My heart hammered. “Caden—”
“We’re not stopping.” I swallowed and nodded. I don't know if he was trying to get me away from Damien or the crowd but either way, I was glad to be following his lead.