Cassandra walked through the college courtyard, her steps slow and deliberate. The laughter and chatter of students filled the air, but she barely heard it. Her mind was elsewhere, lost in memories of a life she had long left behind.
The sound of her mother's voice haunted her thoughts—soft, gentle, full of warmth. It was a voice she hadn't heard since she was twelve. The fire that had destroyed her family had also destroyed any sense of security she had known. The world had shown her its cruel side, and now, she intended to show it hers.
As Cassandra passed the library steps, she noticed a group of students whispering and glancing her way. She didn't need to hear what they were saying to know. She was new, and new faces always came with questions. She ignored them and kept walking, her eyes scanning the campus for Jackson.
She spotted him sitting under a tree near the science building, his head buried in a book. He looked so peaceful, so unaware of the storm brewing around him. For a moment, Cassandra felt a pang of guilt. Jackson was different. He wasn't like his parents, and she knew it. But guilt wouldn't stop her. Not when she was so close to the answers she had spent years searching for.
"Hey," she said, walking up to him.
Jackson looked up, startled. He smiled when he saw her. "Hey, Cass. You done exploring?"
"For now," she said, sitting down beside him. "What are you reading?"
He showed her the cover. It was a thick textbook about biology.
"You're really diving in," she said with a smirk.
Jackson shrugged. "It's better than sitting around doing nothing."
She watched him for a moment, noticing the way his brow furrowed as he read. He was always so serious, so focused. It made her wonder what he would have been like if his life had been different—if he had grown up with parents who truly cared.
"You're staring," Jackson said, breaking her thoughts.
"Just thinking," she said, leaning back against the tree. "Do you ever feel like you're not meant to be here?"
He gave her a curious look. "What do you mean?"
"Like… you're in the wrong place. Like you're supposed to be somewhere else, doing something else."
Jackson hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. I feel like that all the time."
Cassandra smiled faintly. "Me too."
They sat in silence for a while, the sounds of campus life fading into the background. It was moments like this that made her doubt herself. Could she really hurt Jackson? Could she really carry out her plan, knowing he might get caught in the crossfire?
But then she remembered her parents—their laughter, their love, and the way it had all been stolen from her. She couldn't stop now. Not when she was so close.
That night, the campus was quiet, the halls of the dormitories dimly lit. Cassandra stood by the window of her room, staring out at the darkened grounds. Her roommate had gone to bed early, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, worn photograph. It was the only picture she had left of her family, taken on her seventh birthday. Her mother's smile was radiant, her father's arm draped protectively around her. They looked so happy, so complete.
Cassandra's hand tightened around the photo. She had spent years piecing together the truth, following every lead, chasing every rumor. All of it had led her here, to this college, to the Walters family.
She slipped the photo back into her pocket and turned away from the window. She couldn't afford to let herself waver. Not now.
A knock at the door startled her. She glanced at the clock—nearly midnight. Who would be visiting her at this hour?
Cassandra opened the door to find Matilda standing there, her arms crossed and a sly smile on her lips.
"Matilda," Cassandra said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought we should talk," Matilda said, stepping into the room without waiting for an invitation.
Cassandra closed the door and turned to face her. "About what?"
"About Jackson."
Cassandra's expression remained neutral, but inside, her mind raced. "What about him?"
Matilda smirked. "Don't play dumb, Cassandra. I see the way he looks at you. I don't know what your game is, but you should know one thing—Jackson is mine."
Cassandra raised an eyebrow. "Yours? Does he know that?"
Matilda's eyes narrowed. "Listen, sweetheart. You may have everyone else fooled with your little innocent act, but I'm not buying it. I don't know what you're after, but stay away from Jackson. Consider this a warning."
Cassandra felt a spark of anger flare inside her, but she kept her voice calm. "Thanks for the advice, Matilda. I'll keep it in mind."
Matilda gave her one last glare before turning on her heel and leaving the room.
Cassandra closed the door and leaned against it, her heart pounding. Matilda was trouble, that much was clear. But trouble didn't scare Cassandra. It only made her more determined.
The next morning, Cassandra found herself in the library, scanning the shelves for a book she didn't really need. She wasn't here for the books; she was here to think.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice behind her.
"You always this focused, or is it just an act?"
She turned to see Jackson standing there, a teasing smile on his face.
"Funny," she said, rolling her eyes. "What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you," he admitted. "I wanted to make sure Matilda didn't scare you off last night."
Cassandra froze. "How did you know about that?"
"She has a way of making her intentions clear," Jackson said with a shrug. "Don't let her get to you. She's all bark, no bite."
Cassandra forced a smile. "I can handle Matilda. You don't have to worry about me."
Jackson studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Good. Because I think she's got it out for you now."
"Let her," Cassandra said, her voice steady. "I'm not afraid of her."
Jackson grinned. "I'm starting to think there's not much that scares you."
Cassandra didn't respond. She couldn't tell him the truth—that the only thing she was truly afraid of was losing sight of her purpose.
As the days passed, the tension on campus grew. Matilda's jealousy turned into outright hostility, and strange things began happening around the college. Locked doors were found open, important papers went missing, and whispers of blame started to circulate.
Cassandra watched it all unfold with a calm exterior, but inside, she felt the weight of her choices pressing down on her. She had come here with a plan, but now, she was beginning to wonder if she had underestimated the cost.
And then, late one night, everything changed.
Jackson was walking back to his dorm when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned, but the path was empty. Shrugging it off, he continued walking, only to hear the footsteps again—closer this time.
"Who's there?" he called out, his voice steady despite the unease creeping up his spine.
Silence.
Jackson quickened his pace, his heart pounding. He was almost at the dorm when a shadow moved in the corner of his eye. He turned, and for a split second, he thought he saw someone—someone familiar.
But when he blinked, the figure was gone.
Jackson stood there, staring into the darkness, a sense of dread washing over him.
Something was wrong.
And deep down, he knew this was only the beginning.