Betrayal Tagged

The name Samantha Haynes had been a game-changer. Victoria's old friend and someone who might know more about her secrets, Samantha had recently returned to town.

Reaching out wasn't hard. A quick search led us to her social media. Her profile was private, but George didn't waste time.

"She might not respond," I said as George typed.

He shot me a smirk. "You underestimate my charm, Will."

The message was straightforward:

Hi, Samantha. I'm William, working on something related to Victoria's case. Can we meet?

I wasn't convinced she'd reply. But fifteen minutes later, my phone buzzed.

Samantha: What do you want to know?

"Quick response," I murmured, showing George the screen.

"She's curious. Keep it simple," he said.

William: We'd like to ask about your friendship with Victoria. Can we meet?

Another pause. Then:

Samantha: Tomorrow. Café Centrale. 10 a.m.

"She's bold," George said with a grin. "I like her already."

The Meeting

The café was quieter than usual when we arrived. Samantha was seated at a corner table, her blonde hair tied back in a messy bun. Her expression was guarded, her eyes sharp.

"William and George?" she asked as we approached.

"How do you know me?" George asked, raising an eyebrow.

Samantha smirked. "You're not the only one who knows how to use social media."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Fair enough."

She gestured for us to sit, crossing her arms as we did. "What exactly do you want to know?"

"Anything you can tell us about Victoria," I said carefully.

Her gaze darkened. "Victoria..." She exhaled sharply, as if saying the name hurt. "She wasn't as perfect as everyone thinks."

George leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

Samantha hesitated, then pulled out her phone. "Look at this." She handed it to me.

It was a picture—just her and Victoria, arms around each other, laughing. The timestamp in the corner read three years ago. The caption said: 'Best friends forever, or until we kill each other first. Happy birthday, Vic!'

"She told George she wasn't close to Victoria," I said, frowning.

"Exactly," George chimed in.

Samantha's expression hardened. "She lied to you? I'm not surprised. Victoria wasn't easy to deal with, but Emma stuck by her longer than anyone. If she's pretending otherwise, it's for a

As we talked, an idea hit me. Pulling out my phone, I searched for Victoria's old posts. Her public profile painted a different picture—one filled with carefully curated moments.

"There," I said, holding the screen up to George. It was a photo of Victoria in the same dress from the group photo, but this time she wasn't smiling. Instead, the caption read: 'Trust is fragile. Be careful who you let in.'

George frowned. "Do you think this was about Emma?"

Samantha bit her lip. "I remember that night. Victoria didn't want to go, but Emma convinced her. They had a fight afterward—I don't know what about, but it wasn't pretty."

"What kind of fight?" I asked.

Samantha shook her head. "I wasn't there, but she came to my house crying. Said she didn't trust Emma anymore."

George and I exchanged a look. Victoria's world was getting murkier by the second.

"Why would she post this and still stay friends with Emma?" George asked.

"Maybe she didn't have a choice," I muttered.

"That doesn't make sense—"

"Unless Emma had something on her," Samantha interjected, her tone grim.

I froze. The possibility hung in the air, heavy and unspoken.