A DEAD GIRL'S SILENCE

Paris - Zion's Penthouse, 2:14 a.m.

Amira stared at the leather-bound journal on her lap like it might catch fire.

She couldn't breathe. Not properly.

Celeste had been scared. Lonely. Stalked. And somehow, Zion Carter had known. And done nothing.

Zion sat across from her, silent, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on the floor like a man waiting for a verdict.

"I trusted you," she said softly, dangerously. "I trusted you enough to listen. And you let her die alone."

He looked up, expression unreadable. "You think I did nothing."

"You did nothing," she snapped.

"No, Amira," he said, standing slowly. "I left."

That silenced her for a beat.

Zion walked toward the window, hands in his pockets, gaze lost in the skyline.

"I was in that courtyard. I saw the fear in her eyes. I told her to leave. I told her she didn't belong there. And you know what she said?"

Amira's pulse throbbed in her ears. "What?"

"She said, 'If I run now, I'll never be brave again.'"

Flashback - Two Years Ago

Zion remembered the wind on the campus steps. Celeste standing beneath a stone archway, sketchpad clutched tight to her chest. She had the same fire in her eyes as Amira only younger. More reckless.

She'd told him she was scared of her own feelings. That Theo made her feel too much.

And that she knew she wasn't safe.

Present

"I didn't have proof," Zion said. "Just suspicions. And your father he didn't want to hear it. He told me to mind my business and stay away from his daughters."

Amira stepped forward. "So you did."

"I thought I was protecting you. All of you."

"But she died anyway," Amira whispered.

Zion didn't argue. He didn't offer an excuse.

And that made it worse.

Three Hours Later - Amira's Apartment

The city was still dark as she paced across her living room floor. The journal sat on the table like it was staring at her. Rosalie sat nearby, watching with wide, worried eyes.

"You think it's all true?" Rosalie asked.

"I know it is," Amira replied. "She named Theo. She said someone was paying people to stay quiet. Zion knew something but didn't act. There's more buried in this."

Rosalie hesitated. "So what now?"

Amira looked at her. "We go to the source."

Later That Day – Boarding School in Switzerland

She hadn't stepped foot on those marble floors since she was nineteen.

Everything felt too clean. Too polished. Like it had been scrubbed of Celeste.

But the headmistress, Madame Desrosiers, looked the same sleek, stern, calculating.

"Miss Fontaine," she said coolly. "This is a surprise."

Amira got straight to it. "I'm reopening my sister's case."

The woman's eyes didn't blink. "Her death was ruled an accident."

"Then you won't mind if I prove otherwise."

Desrosiers smiled tightly. "You've always been your mother's daughter."

Amira leaned in.

"And my mother never let silence cover sin.