Kael pulled a small voice recorder from his hoodie pocket. “I want you to tell the truth. Not for me. For Liam. And for the girl Marcus hurt last semester that everyone ‘forgot’ about.”

“If I do this,” she said slowly, “I’ll lose everything. My spot on the squad. My friends. My… place.”

“Trinity does what I say,” Kael repeated softly. “No. Trinity does what she knows is right.”

-InnocentHigh- Trinity May -Trinity Does What I... The fluorescent lights of InnocentHigh buzzed softly, a constant hum that Trinity May had long since tuned out. What she couldn’t tune out was the weight of the folded note in her pocket.

Kael was quiet. The kind of quiet that made teachers nervous and students whisper. He sat in the back of every class, wore the same grey hoodie regardless of the weather, and had eyes that seemed to dissect everything without permission. Trinity, the bubbly, optimistic cheer captain with the sunshine-yellow scrunchie, should have been his polar opposite. Instead, she felt an invisible string pulling her toward him.

“That you’re happy all the time. That you don’t notice the cracks. That you didn’t see what happened in the parking lot last week.” His voice was low, even. “You saw Marcus shove Liam into a car door. You saw it, and you smiled and waved like the world was a parade.”

Any sane person would have crumbled it up. Called it creepy. Walked away.

Trity bit her lip, a thrill shooting down her spine. Kael had never asked her to do anything before—not even to pass a pencil. This was… attention. And from him, attention felt like a secret sun.

Trinity’s breath caught. She had seen it. And she’d done nothing. Because Trinity does what’s expected. Smile. Cheer. Keep the peace.

Trinity does what I say.

Trinity stared at the recorder. This wasn’t a prank. This wasn’t a crush finally noticing her. This was a weapon, and he was handing her the trigger.

She unfolded the note in the empty hallway by the lockers. Inside, in that same sharp handwriting: