Chapter 209 The missing truth

Chapter 209 The missing truth
They were already seated when Rollins arrived.
Lunch break at school looked exactly as it always did. The courtyard buzzed with conversations as students crowded around tables, balancing trays of food while arguing over classes, weekend plans, and anything that kept their minds on ordinary things. 
Laughter echoed across the campus, blending into the familiar chaos of another school day.
Everything looked normal.
Almost painfully so.
Piper sat at their usual table with her notebook open in front of her. She hadn’t written anything for several minutes, but she hadn’t closed it either. It rested beneath her hands as though she might need it at any moment.
Beside her, Ember scrolled absently through her phone, pausing every so often to look sideways at Piper. 
She’d noticed the distant look in her friend’s eyes more than once that morning and seemed determined not to let her disappear into her thoughts completely.
Across from them, Archie sat quietly, one elbow resting against the table as he watched the flow of students moving across the courtyard.
None of it felt unusual anymore.
Not until Rollins appeared.
Ember barely reacted. Without looking up from her phone, she slid her bag aside to make room at the end of the table.
Rollins took the seat with a quiet nod.
“Archie.”
Archie lifted his gaze.
“You came.”
“I said I would.”
Piper remained silent.
Her attention rested on the notebook in front of her, but her thoughts were somewhere else entirely.
Something about Rollins joining them shifted the atmosphere.
Not tension.
Not awkwardness.
Timing.
It felt as though invisible pieces had begun falling into place whether any of them wanted them to or not.
Finally, Ember looked up.
“You all are acting like this is completely normal.”
No one answered. Not because they were ignoring her Because none of them disagreed.
Piper slowly folded her notebook closed halfway.
Rollins looked toward Archie.
“I need a minute.”
Archie nodded once before standing.
Ember raised an eyebrow.
“Since when do you two need privacy in the middle of lunch?”
Neither of them answered, but Archie shrugged.
Together, they stepped away from the table, stopping only a short distance across the courtyard.
Far enough to speak quietly.
Close enough to remain in sight.
Ember watched them go before leaning back in her chair.
“Yeah…” she muttered. “That’s definitely new.”
Piper didn’t respond.
She was watching too because Rollins and Archie are unable to form a conversation without arguing. 
Rollins stopped near the edge of the courtyard where the noise from the other students faded into the background.
Archie slipped his hands into his pockets and waited.
Rollins didn’t waste time.
“I checked my father’s office.”
Archie gave a small nod.
“And?”
“There was a folder.”
Rollins paused briefly, choosing his words carefully.
“It wasn’t labelled. Every other file in the office was organised except that one. It looked like it had been pushed behind the others.”
Archie remained silent, letting him continue.
“It mentioned repeated losses.”
Rollins glanced toward the ground before looking back up.
“Before gatherings.”
Something passed across Archie’s face.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
“It wasn’t written like an official report,” Rollins continued. “It felt… different. Like someone had been documenting the same thing for years.”
“How long?”
“I couldn’t tell.”
He paused.
“But it wasn’t recent.”
Archie’s eyes shifted briefly toward the lunch table where Piper and Ember sat watching them.
Rollins followed it.
Piper hadn’t looked away once.
Archie returned his attention to him.
“What else?”
Rollins exhaled quietly.
“That’s the problem.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“There wasn’t enough information to explain what it meant. Just references to timing. Patterns. Almost like whoever wrote it expected everything to happen again.”
His voice lowered.
“There was one thing that kept coming up.”
Archie waited.
“A four-day window.”
The words settled heavily between them.
Archie’s expression barely changed, but his eyes sharpened almost imperceptibly.
Rollins noticed.
“I don’t know what it means,” he admitted. “I just know it doesn’t fit the way my father usually keeps records.”
Several seconds passed before Archie finally spoke.
“Show me later.”
Rollins nodded once.
Without another word, they turned and walked back toward the table.
The conversation around the table died the moment they sat down again.
Ember looked from one of them to the other.
“Okay,” she said, folding her arms. “I’m only asking once. Since when are you two walking off during lunch like you’re planning a military operation?”
Rollins almost smiled.
Almost.
Instead, he leaned forward slightly.
“I found something.”
Ember sighed.
“That answers absolutely none of what I asked golden boy.” She seemed to have a different name for him every time she saw him.
Piper’s attention snapped fully into focus. “What kind of something?”
Rollins hesitated.
“A folder.”
He looked directly at Piper.
“In my father’s office.”
That was enough.
Something changed in Piper’s expression. It wasn’t shock.
It was recognition just like Archie's.
Ember noticed the reaction immediately.
Rollins continued, unaware of what Piper was already connecting.
“It mentioned losses before gatherings.”
Piper straightened in her seat.
“And a timing pattern.”
“How many days?” she asked quietly.
Rollins frowned.
“Before what?”
“The gathering.”
He answered without thinking.
“Four.”
Everything seemed to stop.
The noise around them continued.
Students laughed.
Someone dropped a tray nearby.
A teacher called after a group of late arrivals.
But at their table, time stalled.
Piper didn’t speak immediately.
Her fingers tightened around the edge of her notebook.
Then she whispered,
“Irene wrote that.”
Ember looked between them.
“Wrote what?”
Piper didn’t answer.
Her mind had already raced ahead.
Rollins frowned.
“Who’s Irene?”
Piper shook her head.
“It doesn’t matter right now.”
It did.
More than any of them realised.
But not here.
Not yet.
She lowered her eyes to the notebook, her grip tightening as Irene’s final entry replayed itself in her mind.
The tradition is four days away.
I’ve confirmed four disappearances already.
She looked back up slowly.
“If Irene’s last journal entry said there were four days left before the tradition…” she said, almost thinking aloud, “…and she’d already confirmed four disappearances…”
Her voice trailed off as the pieces settled into place.
She lifted her gaze.
Not toward Rollins.
Not toward Ember.
Toward the conclusion she could no longer avoid.
“…then she wasn’t wrong.”
Silence settled over the table.
A slow, uneasy silence.
Piper swallowed.
“And Scarlett’s version doesn’t hold.”
Ember frowned.
“What version?”
Piper met her eyes.
“The one where Scarlett said she killed Irene.”
The words hung between them.
Because for the first time, Piper wasn’t questioning Scarlett’s confession.
She was questioning whether it had ever been the whole truth.