Page 103 of The Sweetest Revenge

"Hello?" Mila's voice finally came through, thick with sleep and confusion.

"We're a go this morning," I whispered, though there was no one to hear me. Something about speaking at full volume felt dangerous, as if the walls themselves might report back to Zaiden.

"Shit," Mila mumbled, followed by the rustling of sheets. I imagined her sitting up, suddenly alert despite the hour. "How long do we have before he gets back?"

I glanced again at the clock, mentally calculating. "He should be back around 12:30.

The magnitude of what we were about to do settled over me.

"Okay." I could hear her bed rustling on the other end. "My parents are forcing me to have breakfast with them this morning, but I should be there to get you around nine."

"Perfect. I'll get ready now and wait in case you can slip out early."

"I'll text Journey to meet me there," Mila added.

"Journey has an early class this morning," I reminded her. "It's just you and me."

"Ok, I'll be there as soon as I can."

I disconnected, texted her my location with shaking fingers, and set my phone back on the nightstand. It looked so innocent there, a sleek rectangle hiding plans that could get us all in trouble. My gaze shifted to Kacie's phone sitting on the table next to mine. The screen was still dark despite being on the charger for a week, reminding me why I needed to talk to my mom.

We'd been trying to break free for a week. Plotting. Waiting. Watching Zaiden for any opening. And now that I'd finally convinced him, the universe seemed determined to throw obstacles in our path. Mila was trapped at a family breakfast. Journey was locked in early classes.

Nine o'clock. That was our window. If Mila arrived by then, I'd have three hours to confront my mom and return before Zaiden suspected anything. Three hours to uncover a truth that might shatter whatever was growing between us.

I glanced at the clock: 6:23 AM. The minutes ticked by with excruciating slowness, each one a reminder that I was alone in this house with nothing but my thoughts.

As much as I wanted to go back to bed, I knew I was too overwhelmed to go back to sleep, so I took a quick shower instead.

As the hot water pounded against my skin, scenarios played through my mind. What if she admitted everything? The thought alone made my stomach twist. Or worse, what if she lied, and I could see right through it? The steam clouded around me as I spun, letting water saturate my hair.

My thoughts shifted to Zaiden. His face appeared in my mind, not the soft expression he sometimes wore with me, but the cold, calculating one I'd glimpsed when he talked about justice for Kacie. What would he do if we proved my mom was responsible? The words "make her disappear" floated through my mind, and I shivered despite the scalding water. I'd seen enough to know it wasn't an empty phrase in his world.

The pipes gave a sudden groan, making me flinch. Even the house seemed to be warning me.

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a big, dark green towel around me before strolling into Zaiden's bare room. The only thing in the room that made it look like someone lived there was the messy bed. His walls were bare, and his dressers were empty. I strolled around the bed and pulled open the closet floor.

The closet, on the other hand, was obviously used as extra storage space. It was filled with empty suitcases and brown moving boxes. My eyes caught Kacie's name scribbled across a few of them, and my heart ached.

This was where everything in Kacie's room had gone—a mausoleum of memories, boxed and sealed away from the world.

Even though I knew I shouldn't, my fingers betrayed me. They hovered over a box labeled "DESK" in thick black marker, my mom's handwriting. I peeled the tape back, the ripping sound unnaturally loud in the empty house. Each movement felt like trespassing, and yet I still couldn't stop myself.

The cardboard flaps surrendered, revealing treasures I'd thought were lost forever. The box was filled with items that had once cluttered her desk and dresser. My breath caught as I lifted out a silver frame. Us, grinning at the 8th-grade dance, captured forever in our ridiculous glittery dresses and too-high heels. We'd spent hours getting ready, convincing ourselves that adulthood was just around the corner.

My chest tightened, remembering our moms together that morning, working together to make sure everything was perfect.

I put the picture back and closed the box. "I can't do this right now," I muttered as my gaze searched the closet for the bag of clothes I'd brought, but I froze when my eyes spotted a heart-shaped floral keepsake box, and I couldn't help but smile. That was the box that Kacie kept everything that ever mattered to her in. I'd given her that box filled with gifts for her eighth birthday.

Grabbing a shirt that still had the tags on it, I pulled it over my head, dropping the towel before ripping the tags off. I reached up, grabbed the box off the top shelf, and carried it out of the closet, setting it on the bed. I strolled to the tall dresser with a flat-screen TV on it, opened the top drawer, grabbed a pair of Zaiden's boxers, and pulled them on.

I strolled back to the bed and sank onto the mattress. Every year, we would put new items inside this box, memories we never wanted to forget, and our secrets.

I knew I shouldn't go down memory lane right now, but I couldn't stop myself from opening the box. I pulled out a picture of her and her ex and smiled. He'd loved her, but she wasn't ready to fall in love.

I set that picture on the bed, pulled out a folded paper, and opened it. My eyes narrowed. I didn't remember this being in there. It was her birth certificate.

I set it to the side and pulled out a handful of pictures. The first three were of her and me, and the next few were a mixture of Mila, Journey, Kacie, and me. I pulled out two friendship bracelets and a white envelope that felt like it had more photos.

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