***
23:57:12
The countdown glared back at me from the screen like a loaded gun.
Ticking. Waiting. Promising destruction.
I stared at it, paralyzed. The seconds slid off like beads of sweat. My fingers trembled over the screen, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. Not from the red numbers… not from the threat beneath them.
You chose your side. You'll both burn for it.
I thought I'd already fallen too deep.
But this?
This was a bottomless pit—and I was still falling.
The front door creaked.
I shot upright, panic ricocheting through me.
"Jace?" I called, my voice sharp, edged with fear.
He stepped inside, wind-blown and furious, eyes scanning me before zeroing in on the phone in my hand.
"You saw it," he said, voice low.
"You knew it was coming."
He didn't deny it. Just tossed a brown envelope onto the counter and raked a hand through his hair.
"I met someone tonight," he said. "Someone from my past. A guy named Theo. He was a janitor at Westview. The only one who knew the school's real secrets. He was paid to look the other way."
"Why tell you now?"
"Because he wants out," Jace said, jaw tight. "But before he could give me everything… he told me this." Jace opened the envelope. Inside were photos. Documents. Names.
He laid one photo on the table.
A group of teens, arms slung around each other. Tristan. Savannah. Ivy. Jace. And someone else.
"Who's that?" I asked.
Jace's jaw clenched. "Me. Before the fire changed me. Before I started hiding in the shadows."
"No," I whispered, pointing. "Her."
She stood off to the side. Lean. Smiling. Unassuming.
"She was one of them?" I asked.
He nodded. "Lena Greaves. She was the one who actually locked the door the night of the fire."
My breath caught.
"And she's the one behind the countdown."
***
Later That Night
The clock ticked past 22:03:48.
Jace and I sat in the living room, the lights dim, our knees touching, the space between us pulsing with tension.
"Why now?" I asked. "Why is she targeting us?"
He hesitated. "Because Lena was in love with Reed. The one who died in the fire. She blames me for what happened. Even though she's the one who ensured he never got out."
"That doesn't make sense—"
"She was supposed to save him," Jace said, voice breaking. "They had a plan. But something went wrong. She panicked. I don't know the rest."
I swallowed. "And now she wants revenge."
"Not just revenge," he said, looking me dead in the eye. "She wants chaos. Exposure. She wants to burn every single one of us for what happened."
He slid closer. "And she'll use you to do it."
I exhaled shakily. "Then we beat her at her own game."
He blinked. "Leah—"
"We leak the files," I said. "The footage Ivy has. The names. All of it. We get ahead of her. Make it public before she uses it to destroy us."
"It's suicide," Jace said. "Savannah and Tristan—they'll kill to protect themselves."
"I'd rather die telling the truth than live trapped in a lie."
He stared at me like I was the last pure thing in a world gone toxic.
Then he kissed me.
It wasn't soft or slow. It was frantic. Messy. Desperate.
He lifted me into his lap, my thighs straddling his waist, my fingers buried in his hair. I moaned into his mouth, not caring that the walls had ears, not caring that death ticked just hours away.
His hands gripped my waist like I was the last thing tethering him to this world.
"You're not just an addiction," he whispered against my skin, sliding the hoodie off my shoulder. "You're a goddamn lifeline."
And then we unraveled.
Together.
Clothes hit the floor. Limbs tangled. Every kiss a promise. Every touch a goodbye just in case.
My body arched beneath him, bare and willing.
When he sank into me, I cried out—not in pain, but in relief.
Like he was the only thing that made sense in a world gone mad.
And maybe he was.
Because even monsters need love.
And I'd fallen for mine.
***
The Next Morning
17:06:31
Ivy met us at a diner off the interstate, a hood pulled low over her eyes and a hard drive clutched in her palm.
"This has everything," she said, sliding it across the table. "But once this goes public, there's no taking it back."
"I know," I said.
Jace watched me quietly, his fingers brushing my thigh under the table.
"We do this," Ivy continued, "and Savannah will call in every favor her daddy's money can buy. Tristan will vanish, or worse, go rogue. Lena? She'll turn us into martyrs if she has to."
"Then let's become the fire they can't contain," I said.
Ivy smiled. "God, you're fearless."
"I'm in love," I replied, glancing at Jace. "There's a difference."
***
Back at the House
14:02:15
We uploaded the first file.
Footage of a party. Loud music. White powder. Drunken confessions.
Savannah's voice clear as crystal: "If Reed talks, we bury him. Got it?"
Then the next video.
Tristan dragging a kid into a locked room. Screaming. Crying.
The footage was sickening.
We blurred the victims' faces.
But left the truth raw.
Unforgiving.
***
12:45:00
The internet erupted.
Reddit threads. Anonymous forums. Private Westview alumni channels.
And then… threats.
Jace's phone buzzed.
Unknown: You want a war? Let's play.
Attached: A photo of Ivy.
Tied to a chair.
Blood smeared on her cheek.
***
The phone slipped from Jace's hand.
I felt the room tilt.
"No," I whispered.
And then another message.
Unknown: Your move. 10 hours left. Or she dies.
***
We were no longer playing defense.
This wasn't a secret anymore.
This was war.
And the only way to survive…
Was to burn everything down first.