SHADOWS AND SUSPICIONS

Monday morning was cruel.

Not because of the cold or the endless lectures but because of the eyes.

Caleb Vale's eyes, to be exact.

He was everywhere I turned. In the library, at fencing practice, leaning against the locker across from mine like it was his throne. Always watching. Not with fascination, but with suspicion. Like he knew I didn't belong.

He hadn't said a word to me since our shared glance at lunch.

But his silence was louder than anything else.

In psychology class, he sat one row behind me.

The professor talked about masks how people wear emotional ones to fit into society.

I wondered if the universe was mocking me.

As I took notes, I felt Caleb's gaze burn holes through my back. When the bell rang, I stood and turned just as he brushed past.

He paused, his voice low. "You take very neat notes… for someone who's supposedly homeschooled."

I smiled. "And you're very observant for someone who doesn't talk to people."

He smirked. "Maybe I talk to the right ones."

"Then maybe you should choose better."

He walked off.

My heart thudded louder than it should have.

Caleb Vale wasn't part of my kill list.

His father, Desmond Vale, had been a silent investor one of the eight, but distant. Caleb had been away at boarding school when my family was slaughtered. He didn't pull the trigger. But he carried shadows. And secrets.

Genevieve flagged him as a potential complication.

"He's smart," she warned. "And broken. Broken boys are either dangerous… or useful."

Time would tell.

Later that evening, Lila dragged me to a student council meet and greet in the library.

It was all formal wear and champagne flutes filled with apple cider. I wore black sleek, understated, tactical. Lila wore pink, obviously.

And of course, Caleb was there.

Our eyes met across the room.

Again.

This time, he didn't look away.

Lila introduced me to more people trust fund heirs, future politicians, children raised on power like it was oxygen. I smiled, laughed, played the part. Every connection I made was a thread in the web I was spinning.

Eventually, I slipped away from the crowd and found a quiet alcove near the back of the library.

A moment later, Caleb appeared.

"You always vanish when it gets loud?" he asked.

I raised an eyebrow. "You always follow people you barely know?"

"Only when they lie about who they are."

My pulse spiked. "Excuse me?"

He stepped closer. "You move like someone who's been trained. Your accent slips sometimes. And you avoid mirrors."

I smiled calmly. "Sounds like you're obsessed with me."

He smirked. "Maybe. Or maybe I just don't like mysteries I can't solve."

I leaned in, close enough to feel his breath. "Then stay curious, Vale. But careful some answers bite."

We stared at each other for a beat too long.

Then I left.

Because I could feel something shifting.

Not in him.

In me.

And that was far more dangerous.

That night, I wrote a new message to Genevieve:

Caleb Vale suspects something. Still no concrete proof. Proceeding with caution. Emotional interference: increasing.

Her response was immediate:

Eliminate distractions. Stay focused. Or I will.

I stared at those words for a long time.

Then closed the phone and tried to forget how good Caleb's voice sounded in the dark.