Craig didn’t trust easily.
But he had let Keith in.
He had known him for as long as he could rember. Through high school. Through weekend camps, through all the ssy teenage years when the world felt too big and their futures felt uncertain.
They’d even planned to attend a different college together, until Craig’s dad made him switch to Belford at the last minute. Keith switched too, without hesitation. That was how close they were.
Almost like brothers.
His best friend. The guy who knew everything. The one person he thought would never cross a line like this.
So how the hell was he the one who sent that video to Aiden Sanchez?
Sure, Keith and Conor had their issues, ugly ones, but never, not in a million years, did Craig think this would co from him.
Sitting on the truth for this long ? Playing a part in the thing that almost ruined Conor’s life?
"Keith?" Craig said quietly. "I’m sorry, are you sure about that?" His voice was low, too steady. The kind of calm that ca right before sothing broke.
Marjorie nodded without hesitation. "Yes. When Aiden got the video last year, he wasn’t the only one. I received it too. I tried tracing it back then, IP logs, signal bounces... everything pointed to that person, Keith Jacobs."
Silence slamd back into the room, heavier than before, like all the oxygen had been sucked out.
Craig turned away, slow and deliberate, as if distance might dull the weight of what he’d just heard.
rlina saw it. The exact mont he cracked, the shift in his face. In the way he held his breath. Not loud. Not explosive. Just—broken.
She felt it too.
Keith’s na didn’t shake her as much. Not compared to what she’d already heard today, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to reach for Craig.
To hold him.
To help him breathe.
Except... her body wasn’t moving. Her legs felt bolted to the wooden chair, she had earlier sat on for support. Her hands rested limply in her lap. Too numb. Too hollowed out.
But her eyes never left him.
Marjorie caught on the tension. "Wait... who is that?"
Craig’s voice was barely there. "He’s a friend of mine. My best friend, actually."
Marjorie blinked, confused. "Oh." She paused, processing the words. "So... why would he do that?" she asked.
Craig dragged a hand over his face, then rubbed the back of his neck like he needed to ground himself.
"Keith and Conor... they’ve never gotten along. Different tempers. Different worlds. Always clashing." He let out a short, humorless laugh. "But still... I never thought he’d do sothing like this. Never."
rlina looked over at him, her face gentle despite the storm inside her. She shook her head slowly, quiet and sad, like she knew exactly how it felt being betrayed like that, she felt his pain echoing through hers.
Craig stepped back. One foot behind the other, like his mind was already halfway out the door before his body could follow.
"I gotta go," he muttered. "I’m sorry—I need to head out." The words ca in a rush. Like his chest was closing in.
rlina shot up from her chair. A reflex. Imdiate. As if the thought of being left alone in that room, with her mother, was too much to bear.
Craig noticed. He paused.
"You gonna be okay here?" he asked, glancing at her, voice tight and full of things he wasn’t saying out loud.
rlina didn’t answer. She just shook her head. Small. Almost childlike.
He looked down. Swallowed. "You wanna co with ?"
"Yeah," she whispered. "I can’t do this. I’m not ready to be alone with her." Her voice caught. "I thought she was dead, Craig."
Craig nodded. The understanding between them didn’t need words. Then he turned to Marjorie.
"We’re leaving. But this isn’t over. We’ll figure this out together, and we’ll get the truth, every inch of it."
Marjorie gave him a hopeful nod. As they headed toward the door, her voice rang out behind them.
"rlina?"
rlina turned at the soft sound of her mother’s, slowly, like it took effort just to move her neck.
Marjorie’s tone sharpened. "When this all goes down... I don’t want lissa or Alistair anywhere near your father. Please."
rlina t her gaze and gave a single nod. No words. Just that.Then she followed closely behind Craig.
She couldn’t stay there. Not one more minute in that house. Not with her.
The cold slapped her cheeks awake. Still, she didn’t say a word.
In the car, Craig kept his eyes on the road, jaw clenched. rlina stared out the window, blinking fast. Trying to stop tears that were threatening to fall.
Craig finally broke the quiet. "That place’s barely holding together. Your mom...you think she’ll be okay there, all alone?"
rlina’s head snapped toward him, eyes sharp. "She’ll be fine. She’s been there, hiding, for a whole goddamn year. If she survived pretending to be dead, she’ll survive that house."
She sniffled, blinking hard as she turned her face toward the window.
"What are you gonna do?" he asked gently. "About all this?"
"I don’t know." Her voice cracked. "Part of thinks... I need to hear my dad’s side. I an—"
"You think she’s lying?"
"I don’t know who she is." Her breath hitched. "I don’t know who that is."
He glanced her way. "Do you need proof...sothing concrete, like fingerprints?"
"No." She shook her head quickly. "It’s her. I know it is. But what if...what if this is all so twisted plan? What if she’s trying to ruin my dad? Maybe she wants to get at him for marrying Fiona. Maybe this is her revenge."
Craig didn’t say anything. Just listened.
rlina kept going, letting her thoughts spill. "I don’t understand what kind of mother disappears for a year. Who hides while her kids think she’s dead. I’m sorry, but... maybe she was ashad. Maybe that’s why she hid. Because of the video with Conor. Her career, because she knew it would blow up in her face."
Her voice faltered.
"I just... I can’t throw my dad to the wolves without knowing the whole truth. No matter how this looks. I need to be sure."
She was already wrong once.
She didn’t want to be wrong again.
Craig nodded slowly, keeping his voice steady. "Okay. Then here’s what you do."
She turned to look at him.
Craig t her eyes, voice steady. "Invite your dad to Belford. Keep it simple, tell him you want to talk. Sothing casual. But it’s on your terms, your timing."
He leaned forward slightly, hands steady on the wheel, eyes fixed on the road ahead.
"When he cos, your mom’s already there," he said. "You don’t even have to be in the room. Stay back. Watch from a distance. Record it, if you have to. Just... observe. Let him see her. Let her speak."
The windshield wipers dragged across the glass with a soft, rhythmic scrape, pushing aside a thin mist clinging to the surface. rlina’s eyes stayed fixed on it, like she could see the plan playing out there, one swipe at a ti, showing her a way forward.
Then Craig spoke again, voice lower, firr. "That’s how you get the truth, his real truth. By watching it happen. Not by chasing every version of the story people want to sell you."
rlina stared at him, heart thudding. The plan settled over her like sothing cold and clear.
She gave a slow nod. "Yeah... that’s clean. Smart. Simple." A breath. "I think I’d be able to do that."
After that, the car stayed quiet. Not because there was nothing to say, but because the truth was still sinking in, for both of them.
Craig kept his eyes on the road. rlina leaned back in her seat, arms folded loosely over her stomach.
Her thumb brushed the edge of her sleeve, over and over again, like she was grounding herself. Like she was already rehearsing what ca next.
He pulled into the empty lot behind her dorm, the engine idling as the heater clicked low.
She didn’t move to get out.
Instead, she pulled out her phone, unlocking it with a trembling thumb. Craig noticed. He didn’t ask anything, just sat there, watching her.
"Should I call him?" she asked softly, almost to herself. "Now?"
Craig paused, his eyes on hers, soft with sothing close to concern, like he was making sure she wasn’t being pushed too far. "Only if you’re ready," he said gently.
rlina hesitated. Then, after a long breath, she hit call.
The phone rang once.
Twice.
Three tis.
No answer.
Her palms were already starting to sweat.
Craig didn’t say a word. He kept his eyes on the road, one hand resting loosely at the bottom of the steering wheel, calm—like he didn’t wanna make the mont any worse.
Then finally, "Hey, honey." Her father’s voice ca warm from the other end.
Her stomach pulled tight. "Hey, Dad. Um... I’m fine. How are you?"
"I’m good, sweetheart. You sound tired."
She let out a breath through her nose, quiet and uneven. "Yeah. A little."
Her eyes flicked to Craig. He t her gaze, he didn’t make a sound, but sothing in his eyes told her she was doing fine. That he was with her, steady as ever, even in silence.
She gripped the phone a little tighter. "Hey, I was wondering... would you be able to co up to Belford this weekend?" Her voice ca out softer than she ant it to. Tentative. Too careful.
No response. Three seconds passed, Maybe four.
Then her father spoke again, quieter now.
"Everything okay, honey?"
Her throat closed up. Her eyes darted to Craig again, like she was second-guessing every word.
Maybe she shouldn’t have said it like that? Maybe it sounded strange. Too sudden. Too formal.
But Craig just gave a small nod. Encouraging her to go on.
Her voice wavered. "Yeah, yeah, it’s just... there’s this project we’re doing at school. And, um...a lot of students had their parents co by to check it out, and I just thought... it might be nice if you ca too."
Craig looked over at her. She wasn’t breathing. Just staring at the dashboard like she’d pinned all her hope to it.
She added quickly, "But if you can’t, I totally understand. I know it’s last minute."
There was another pause.
She could hear faint movent on the other end, like he was settling into the silence. Then ca his voice, warm, steady, familiar. "Of course I’ll co, sweetheart. I’m glad you asked."
rlina blinked hard. Her throat burned with the kind of sting that didn’t co with tears, just pressure. The ache of not knowing if she deserved the comfort she was being given.
She swallowed. "Okay," she whispered. "Thanks."
A gentle breath ca through the speaker. Then,"See you soon, rlina."
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