CHAPTER 6

The campus was alive with the buzz of life. Students rushed through the courtyard, chatting, laughing, and planning their weekend. But for Cassandra, the world around her was a blur. She walked aimlessly, her thoughts a storm of conflicting emotions that left her feeling raw and exposed.

It had been two days since her last encounter with Jackson at the fountain. She could still see the hurt in his eyes, the way his voice trembled with frustration and care. His words lingered in her mind like an echo, refusing to fade.

"You don't have to carry everything by yourself."

She wanted to believe him. She wanted to lean on him, to trust him, to let him see the parts of her that she had hidden for so long. But trust was a dangerous thing, and Cassandra knew better than to give it away so freely. Trust made you vulnerable, and vulnerability could destroy you.

She stopped in her tracks, glancing around. Somehow, her wandering had led her to the campus library. The old stone building stood tall and imposing, its arched windows glowing with warm light. Without thinking, she pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside. The scent of old books and polished wood wrapped around her like a comforting embrace.

The library was quiet, the only sounds the soft rustle of pages and the occasional whisper. Cassandra wandered through the rows of shelves, running her fingers over the spines of books without really seeing them. She wasn't looking for anything in particular, but something about the stillness of the library felt like exactly what she needed.

She found a small table tucked away in a corner and sat down, resting her head in her hands. Her mind was a tangle of memories and emotions, and she didn't know how to unravel them

Cassandra closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift back to a time before everything had gone wrong. She thought of her parents, their laughter, their warmth, the way they had always made her feel safe. She remembered the nights they spent around the old wooden table, playing board games and sharing stories. Those memories were a lifeline, a reminder of who she used to be.

But then came the accident. The fire. The moment that had shattered her world and left her an orphan. She could still see the flames, hear the crackling wood, smell the smoke. She could still hear her mother's voice, faint and desperate, calling her name as the fire consumed everything they had ever known.

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. The pain was sharp, but it grounded her, pulling her back to the present. The Walters had been behind it. She was sure of it. They had taken everything from her, and she had sworn to make them pay.

But now… now there was Jackson.

Jackson was nothing like his parents. He wasn't cold or calculating or cruel. He was kind, thoughtful, and maybe even a little broken, just like her. She had seen the way he carried his own pain, the way he hid it behind his smiles and his quiet demeanor. And somehow, in some inexplicable way, he had started to break through her walls.

But what did that mean? What was she supposed to do with these feelings? She couldn't let herself fall for him, could she? That would mean betraying her parents, betraying the promise she had made to herself all those years ago. But pushing him away felt just as wrong, like she was denying herself the chance to heal.

Cassandra let out a shaky breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn't know how to move forward. Every path seemed fraught with danger, and every choice felt like it would lead to disaster.

"Cassandra?"

The voice startled her, pulling her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Matilda Casantro standing at the end of the aisle, her arms crossed and her lips curled into a smirk. Matilda was dressed impeccably, as always, her designer clothes and perfectly styled hair making her look like she had stepped out of a fashion magazine.

"What do you want, Matilda?" Cassandra asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

Matilda's smirk widened as she sauntered over, her heels clicking against the polished floor. "Relax, darling. I'm not here to cause trouble. I just couldn't help but notice that you've been spending an awful lot of time with Jackson lately."

Cassandra's jaw tightened, but she said nothing.

Matilda leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Let me give you a little piece of advice. Boys like Jackson? They're not worth your time. They come with baggage, and trust me, you don't want to get involved."

"Thanks for the advice," Cassandra said coldly. "But I think I can make my own decisions."

Matilda laughed, a high, tinkling sound that grated on Cassandra's nerves. "Oh, I'm sure you can. But just remember, if you get too close to him, you might find yourself getting burned."

With that, Matilda turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Cassandra alone with her thoughts once again.

As much as Cassandra hated to admit it, Matilda's words struck a nerve. Jackson did come with baggage. But then again, so did she. Maybe that was why they had been drawn to each other in the first place.

She thought about the way he had looked at her, the way he had offered his support without expecting anything in return. She thought about the way he had made her laugh, the way he had made her feel like she wasn't alone.

And she thought about her parents, their faces fading in her memory like old photographs. Would they want her to live in the past, consumed by revenge? Or would they want her to move forward, to find happiness, to let go of the pain that had defined her for so long?

Cassandra didn't have all the answers, but she knew one thing for certain: she couldn't keep running. She couldn't keep hiding from her feelings, from her past, or from Jackson.

She stood up, her resolve hardening. It was time to face the truth, whatever that might mean. She didn't know what the future held, but she was done letting fear and anger control her.

As she left the library and stepped into the cool night air, she felt a strange sense of peace. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was taking a step in the right direction.

But little did she know, the path ahead was far more treacherous than she could have ever imagined.