I’m a mess—can’t think straight, can’t sleep. The bookstore feels more like a trap every day. The weight of the security log I found—proof that Jamie wasn’t here when Riley said he was—keeps gnawing at me. It keeps whispering in the back of my mind that I’ve been wrong. But then, last night, the text hits—“Jamie’s trying to frame me,” anonymous, sharp, and it sends me spiraling back into the darkness. Riley’s been close—too close—her voicemails piling up, her visits constant, and now this. I’m pacing the store late in the afternoon, the shelves blurry, my head spinning. Jamie’s out there, fighting, and I don’t know what’s real anymore—him, her, the theft, the lies.
Riley swings by, like she knows I’m cracking. She’s quiet at first, leaning on the counter, her hoodie damp from the drizzle outside. “You okay?” she asks, soft, her eyes big and worried. I nod, short, not looking at her—my hands busy stacking books I don’t need to stack. I try to ignore her presence, but it’s like she’s become a constant shadow in my life, creeping into every thought.
She steps closer, her voice dropping, and my gut tightens. “Heard stuff today—Jamie’s spreading lies again, saying I took the money.” She pauses, watching me, and I freeze, a chill running down my spine. “He’s desperate, Alex—trying to turn you against me.”
I look at her, slow, the words feeling like knives in my chest. “What kind of lies?” I ask, my voice rougher than I intend. She shrugs, casual, but the words come out like daggers.
“Made-up stuff—a fake tape, him and Casey plotting. People are talking—he’s framing me to save himself.” My chest tightens—the text, “Jamie’s trying to frame me,” flashing in my head. It matches, too perfectly. Her voice—soft, steady—feels so real, like she’s scared, like she’s worried about me. And in this moment, I can almost believe her.
“Jamie’s mad I’m here for you,” she adds, low. “Wants you back, no matter what it takes.”
My hands clench, the book I’m holding bending under the pressure. Jamie—fighting, telling me he didn’t steal, showing me papers—keeps crashing against her words. The log, the theft, her lies, his fight—it’s too much, and I can’t make sense of it anymore. My head is loud, a mess of confusion, doubts, and conflicting memories, and she keeps pushing, subtle, relentless.
“He’s dangerous, Alex,” she says softly, her voice coaxing. “Took your money, now this. You can’t let him keep hurting you.”
Her eyes lock onto mine, pleading, and the weight of it is suffocating. It’s hitting me now—anger, confusion, desperation for something clear. I want it all to end—the doubt, the pull, the noise. And right now, she’s giving me something concrete. I want to believe her. She’s here, offering me the truth in a way Jamie never could, and I can’t stop myself from wanting to believe it.
I drop the book, my hands shaking. “I need to see him,” I mutter, grabbing my jacket from the back of the counter. She nods quickly, like she’s relieved, and I barely hear her voice when she says, “Be careful.”
I’m out the door, the cold rain slapping against my face, the sound of my boots splashing through puddles ringing in my ears. Sam’s place isn’t far—Jamie’s holed up there—and I’m moving fast. My heart’s pounding in my chest, my steps frantic. I need answers—truth, something solid. Riley’s words are burning in my mind, pushing me toward him. The log, the theft, her lies, his fight—it’s too much. I’m done waffling. I have to face him, demand he tells me straight.
I bang on Sam’s door, my fist shaking with frustration. Sam opens it, gruff, but I push past him without waiting. “Where’s Jamie?” I snap, and he points down the hall, stepping back. I storm in, barely hearing his muttered warning as I march down the hallway.
I find Jamie in his room—messy, sketches scattered across the floor, a dim light flickering on his nightstand. He’s sitting on the bed, head down, his hands limp in his lap. When he looks up, surprised, his eyes are red, tired. “Alex?” he says, his voice small, almost broken. And it hits me—him, here, defeated—but Riley’s accusations drown it out.
I step closer, my hands clenched at my sides. “What are you doing?” I yell, loud, my voice cracking with anger. “Framing Riley now? Spreading lies about her?”
He blinks, slow, his eyes wide, confused. “What?” he says, quiet, but I’m already too far gone. The anger’s boiling over. I step in, my chest tight, and I don’t stop.
“Don’t play dumb—I got a text, heard the talk. You’re making stuff up—a tape, her and Morgan—trying to turn this on her!” My voice is sharp, shaking, and he backs up, his face pale.
“I didn’t—” he starts, but I cut him off, fury making my hands tremble.
“You stole from me!” I shout, my voice raw, pointing at him, my hand trembling. “The money’s gone, your stuff is everywhere, and now this—framing her to save yourself? I trusted you, Jamie—gave you everything—and you keep lying!”
He flinches, small, his eyes wide, and I can see the hurt in his face, but it doesn’t matter. Riley’s voice—her soft, steady voice—keeps echoing in my mind, telling me that Jamie’s the one who’s dangerous, that he’s the one who betrayed me. I can’t turn it off, and it’s driving me to a place I don’t want to be.
“She’s scared—says you’re dangerous—and I’m starting to believe her!” The words escape me like a lash of hot steel, and I can see the pain in his eyes, but I can’t stop. Not now.
He shakes his head, fast, his voice breaking. “Alex, no—Riley’s lying, not me! The money, the emails—it’s her, Morgan—” He tries again, but I can’t let him finish.
“Stop it!” I yell, my face hot. “I saw the log—you weren’t here that night she said—but now this? You’re twisting everything, and I’m done!”
My breath is short, my hands shaking, and he’s so close, looking at me like I’m breaking him, and I am.
He tries one last time, weaker now. “Please—you know me—” But I’m past it.
“I don’t know you anymore,” I snap, cruel, sharp, my words slicing the air between us. “You’re a thief, a liar—maybe you never were who I thought.”
He flinches, hard, like I’ve hit him, his shoulders jerking as his eyes fill with tears. And in that moment, I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest. The room goes quiet except for our ragged breathing, and for the first time, I realize that what I’ve just done—what I’ve just said—might have broken everything between us.