Page 64 of Whispers of Deception

Their lips met in a fierce, desperate kiss—hungry, loving, and filled with every emotion they had been holding back for so long. It was a kiss born of frustration, of fear, of guilt, and of love, all tangled together in a mess of passion. His hands slid up to cup her face, pulling her closer, and she melted into him, losing herself in the warmth of his embrace.

“I love you,” he broke away to whisper.

“Gus . . . ”

“You have ruined me, Lilia Chen. I am completely and utterly ruined by you. I’ve spent every day trying to bury what I feel for you, but I can’t do it anymore. I won’t. This love—this is my truth. I want it all with you, and I need you to know that. In aworld where everything else falls apart, my love for you is the one thing I am sure of.”

The kiss resumed, becoming more frantic, more urgent, as if it was the only way they could communicate all the things they had left unsaid. She could feel the pounding of his heart against her chest, matching the frantic rhythm of her own. It was raw, emotional, and all-consuming—an escape from the crushing reality that waited just beyond the garden walls.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and dazed, their foreheads pressed together, the world seemed to stand still for just a moment. Neither of them spoke, the weight of their kiss lingering in the air, heavy with the things they couldn’t say.

But the moment was fleeting, and soon the reality of their situation crept back in, the weight of it pressing down on them once more. Lilia closed her eyes, her breathing uneven as she tried to steady herself. She didn’t want to let go of this moment—of him—but she knew they couldn’t stay here forever.

“We’re going to be okay,” Augustus whispered, his voice soft but resolute.

Lilia opened her eyes, searching his face, trying to find some shred of comfort in his words. She wanted to believe him, wanted to cling to the hope that they could somehow survive this nightmare together.

But for now, in this brief moment, they had each other. And for the first time in what felt like forever, that was enough.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The chandelier light above the dining room cast a soft golden glow, and the low hum of voices surrounded Augustus as he sat stiffly in his chair. The fundraiser dinner stretched on endlessly, each course bleeding into the next, the quiet clinking of silverware and glasses a constant accompaniment to the hushed conversations happening around him.

The room was packed with people—wealthy donors, prominent local figures, and students from Hawthorne. Augustus felt the weight of it all pressing down on him, like the formalities and the expectations were slowly suffocating him. He glanced across the room at Lilia, who sat a few tables away, looking just as tense. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and something passed between them—an acknowledgment of the shared unease. They were both waiting, watching, waiting for something to happen.

He turned back to his own table, his parents on either side of him, their presence like a heavy shadow. His mother was engaged in polite conversation with another donor, her voice smooth and practiced. His father, sitting beside him, had been stiff and silent since their argument earlier that morning.Augustus’ stomach twisted. He knew the tension between them wasn’t going away anytime soon.

Across the room, Sebastian was leaning back in his chair, a glass of champagne in hand, already looking like he’d had one too many. He flashed Augustus a grin, trying to lighten the mood. But even Sebastian, who was rarely fazed by anything, seemed to feel the same suffocating atmosphere. Augustus returned a weak smile, but it felt forced. It felt like everything was just a performance—like they were all playing roles in some grand production that had spiraled out of their control.

Then the doors opened.

The shift in the room was immediate. Conversations quieted, heads turned, and Augustus felt a shiver run down his spine as a wave of unease washed over him. He didn’t know why—maybe it was the sudden hush, maybe it was the way the air seemed to grow heavier—but something told him to look up.

There they were, standing at the entrance to the grand dining hall like a family on display: Mayor Montgomery, his wife, and—Amelia.

Augustus blinked. His breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Amelia was dressed in Willow’s clothes, her hair styled exactly like Willow used to wear it, down to the soft waves that framed her face. Her glasses were gone, and for a moment, Augustus swore he was seeing a ghost.

“What the f—” Augustus started, his voice rough and disbelieving, but he was cut off by a sharp kick under the table. His mother shot him a glare, her lips pressed into a tight line, warning him to stay silent.

Across the room, Sebastian choked on his champagne, sputtering obnoxiously as the bubbles went down the wrong way. His eyes were wide, locked on Amelia. The reaction was almost comical, but no one was laughing.

Amelia. But not just Amelia. She looked like Willow. Exactly like Willow. The resemblance was uncanny.

Augustus’ heart pounded in his chest, and he glanced toward Lilia again. She was staring too, her face pale, her expression unreadable. She didn’t even seem to blink as she took in the sight of Amelia, paraded around by Mayor Montgomery, who introduced her to people with a wide, charming smile. It was the same smile he used to wear when showing off Willow. Like Amelia was some new prize, a replacement for what he had lost.

It was eerie. Disturbing. And yet Amelia—she seemed to be loving it. She was soaking in the attention, smiling warmly at everyone who greeted her, her hand brushing over her newly styled hair as if she couldn’t believe the transformation herself.

The group chat buzzed in Augustus’ pocket. He pulled out his phone under the table, seeing the flood of messages from their friends.

Delilah

Tell me I’m not hallucinating.

Augustus

You’re not.

Eleanor

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