Chapter 124 The Friend In The Frame
The silence in the control room didn’t break.
It sharpened.
Lenora stared through the glass at Kylen like she was seeing him properly for the first time.
Not the jokes.
Not the sarcasm.
Not the constant “I don’t care” attitude.
Just him.
Standing outside the rink doors.
Still.
Watching.
The hockey boy stepped closer to the screen again.
“Play it.”
Lenora didn’t move.
He glanced at her.
“Lenora.”
She exhaled once, then nodded.
“Play it.”
The footage resumed.
12:46 a.m.
Pamela in the hallway.
Talking.
Kylen entering frame seconds later.
Like he belonged there.
Lenora’s throat tightened.
“That doesn’t make sense,” she said quietly.
The hockey boy didn’t answer immediately.
He just watched.
Kylen on screen leaned in slightly toward Pamela.
A quick exchange.
Then something changed hands.
Small.
Dark.
Too fast to fully see.
The hockey boy paused the footage again.
Zoomed in.
Lenora leaned closer.
A drive.
Not a paper.
Not letters.
A storage device.
Pamela hadn’t mentioned that.
Lenora stepped back slightly.
“Why would he be involved?”
The hockey boy’s jaw tightened.
“I don’t know.”
Outside, Kylen lifted a hand and knocked lightly on the glass.
Not aggressive.
Not defensive.
Just… acknowledgment.
Like he knew they were watching.
Lilibeth’s voice crackled through the hallway speaker system from outside.
“Okay, why is nobody speaking? I hate silent betrayal arcs.”
Pamela’s voice followed, lower.
“Open the door.”
The hockey boy hesitated.
Then walked out.
Lenora followed.
So did Pamela.
Lilibeth trailed behind, muttering, “This is how horror movies start.”
Kylen stood by the rink entrance when they reached him.
He looked exactly the same.
Same hoodie.
Same relaxed posture.
Same tired eyes.
Except now, none of it felt casual.
Pamela stepped forward first.
“You should explain.”
Kylen nodded slightly.
“I figured this would happen eventually.”
Lilibeth blinked.
“Oh my God, he’s calm. I hate calm villains.”
Kylen ignored her.
His eyes went to Lenora.
“I wasn’t working against you.”
Lenora folded her arms.
“That’s a bold thing to say after we just watched you in a hallway exchange.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
The hockey boy stepped closer.
“Then explain it.”
Kylen exhaled slowly.
“I was trying to stop it from going public.”
Silence.
Lenora frowned.
“Stop what?”
Kylen looked at the floor for a second.
Then back up.
“The financial file.”
Pamela stiffened.
Lenora’s stomach tightened.
“What about it?”
Kylen glanced at the hockey boy.
“Your father wasn’t the only one being targeted that night.”
The hockey boy’s expression hardened.
“Say what you mean.”
Kylen nodded once.
“Someone was going to release everything. Not just about your families. About the league. About funding channels tied to the school and outside sponsors.”
Lilibeth whispered, “That sounds illegal.”
Kylen nodded.
“It is.”
Pamela stepped forward.
“So you took it?”
Kylen didn’t deny it.
“Yes.”
The hockey boy’s voice dropped.
“You stole it.”
Kylen met his gaze.
“I removed it from circulation.”
Lenora looked between them.
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
Kylen hesitated.
Then said it plainly.
“Because I didn’t know who was safe.”
Silence again.
This time heavier.
Pamela’s voice turned sharp.
“So you decided to operate alone?”
Kylen looked at her.
“I decided to prevent panic.”
Lilibeth scoffed.
“That is the worst superhero origin story I’ve ever heard.”
No one reacted to her this time.
Lenora stepped closer.
“So the messages…”
Kylen nodded.
“Someone is trying to retrieve what I took.”
The hockey boy’s eyes narrowed.
“And they’re framing us to get it.”
Kylen nodded again.
“Yes.”
A pause.
Then Lenora asked quietly,
“Who has access to it now?”
Kylen didn’t answer immediately.
That hesitation said enough.
Pamela noticed.
“Kylen.”
He exhaled.
“I don’t have it anymore.”
Silence dropped.
The hockey boy stepped forward.
“What do you mean you don’t have it?”
Kylen looked at him.
“I passed it on.”
Lenora felt the shift before she understood it.
“Passed it to who?”
Kylen’s gaze moved slightly.
Not to any of them.
Not directly.
But toward the rink.
The school.
The system around them.
Finally, he said,
“To someone who promised it would stay buried.”
Pamela’s expression changed instantly.
“That’s not protection.”
Kylen nodded once.
“I know.”
Lenora stepped back slightly.
“So someone else has it now.”
Kylen didn’t deny it.
“Yes.”
The hockey boy ran a hand through his hair.
“And now that person is using us as cover.”
Kylen nodded again.
“Yes.”
Lilibeth muttered, “I officially hate everyone older than us.”
Pamela looked at Kylen.
“So you’re saying you’re not the source.”
Kylen shook his head.
“No.”
Then added,
“But I started the chain.”
Silence again.
This time, no one spoke immediately.
Because that was the difference.
Not innocence.
Not guilt.
Connection.
Lenora exhaled slowly.
“So we’re not dealing with one person.”
Kylen nodded.
“We never were.”
The hockey boy looked at Lenora.
“We’re dealing with whoever controls the file now.”
Lenora nodded.
“And whoever is using it to push us into reacting.”
Pamela crossed her arms.
“Which means everything we’ve seen…”
Kylen finished it.
“…is bait.”
A long pause.
Lilibeth finally broke it.
“Okay. So just to confirm, we are being emotionally hunted by spreadsheet criminals?”
Kylen nodded.
“That’s… not wrong.”
She sighed.
“Cool. Hate it.”
Later that night, Lenora sat on her bed staring at her phone.
No new messages.
That felt worse than messages.
The hockey boy called.
She answered immediately.
“Hey.”
His voice was quieter than usual.
“I don’t like this.”
“Me neither.”
A pause.
Then he said,
“I don’t trust where this is going.”
Lenora closed her eyes.
“Neither do I.”
Silence stretched.
Then he added,
“But I trust you.”
That softened something in her chest.
She smiled faintly.
“Good.”
He exhaled.
“We find the file.”
Lenora opened her eyes.
“Together.”
“Together.”
A beat.
Then—
“I’m coming over.”
She didn’t hesitate.
“Okay.”
When the call ended, Lenora looked out her window.
Somewhere out there, the real story was still moving.
Still forming.
Still waiting for its final shape.
But this time, they weren’t inside it blindly.
This time, they were looking back.
And that changed everything.