Page 191 of I See You

Harper and Dorian shared a quick glance—mission step one complete—and walked inside like they belonged.

Dorianglancedaroundthespace,herbrowsliftingslightly. This was nothing like the dorms they remembered. Either Celinewas living in a secret penthouse suite, or the college had done some serious remodeling since they graduated. The place looked more like a luxury apartment than a college dorm—smooth furniture, granite countertops, floor-to-ceiling windows—it felt way too grown.

Celine led them farther inside where her friends were sprawled across a plush sectional, taking shots and laughing loud over the music that filled the space. The energy was vibrant, carefree, and for a moment, Dorian and Harper were both pulled back in time. Back to nights with Sevyn, when the three of them would pregame in their shared apartment—dancing, drinking, hyping each other up before stepping out like they owned the night.

Now, one of them was missing. And neither of them could say it out loud, but that ache sat heavy in both their chests.

“These are my roommates,” Celine introduced with a smile. “That’s Melanie, Tyler, and Kameron.”

The girls all waved, already tipsy, dressed in tight tops and short skirts, blush on their cheeks, ready to be seen.

“This is Hazel and Dior. Hazel’s apparently in my dance class, and Dior’s her cousin,” Celine added.

“How come I’ve never seen you in dance?” Celine asked Harper curiously.

Harper chuckled, playing it smooth. “Girl, I hate that class. My mama used to be a dancer so she forced me into it. I’m more of a gym girl, but I had to show up to the last class or they were gonna fail me for attendance.”

Dorian was impressed. The lie rolled off her tongue so effortlessly. Then again, Harper was raised in the streets—lying, surviving, and adapting were second nature.

“Oh, girl, same! That’s how I am with calculus. That class is kicking my ass,” Kameron groaned, earning a chorus of laughs.

“Anyway, Dior does nails—and she’s about to bless us with some bomb sets for homecoming,” Celine hyped, clapping her hands like this was the best part of her night.

The girls whooped in excitement. One of them reached for another shot.

“Wait, Dior—you go here too?” Melanie asked, eyes curious. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around. Y’all too fine not to be noticed.”

Dorian smiled through the guilt tugging at her chest. Celine was sweet. She was bubbly, smart, polite—everything Sevyn would've vibed with. But no amount of charm could change their mission. Sevyn came first.

“Nah, I graduated early. I actually run a nail salon not far from campus,” Dorian said casually, and just like that, their eyes lit up like she was holding a golden ticket.

“Oh I need your info,” Melanie said, sitting up straighter. “I’ve been trying to find a good tech down here!”

“She’s from Connecticut,” Celine added with a nod.

“You gonna have time to do all our nails before the game?” Tyler asked eagerly.

Dorian laughed. “Not enough time for a full set on all y’all, but I brought a few press-ons I custom designed. You can pick whichever set you like, and I’ll apply them for you. Don’t worry—my glue’s top tier. You won’t have to worry about them popping off while throwing ass tonight.”

The girls hollered with excitement again, clapping and bouncing on the couch like it was a slumber party. Harper and Dorian smiled, masking the heaviness in their hearts. They were getting closer. But every step forward reminded them who they were doing this for—and how much time they didn’t have left to save her.

Dorian and Harper settled into the dorm’s cozy living room like they belonged there. The air buzzed with music and liquor, laughter echoing off the walls as Dorian worked through each girl’s nails like she was running a mobile salon. The girls were obsessed with their sets, holding their hands up to the light, snapping pictures, already planning their captions for Instagram. Harper, meanwhile, stayed sharp—engaging, smiling, but never losing focus.

This wasn’t a girls’ night. This was war disguised in acrylic and charm. Hassan’s voice still echoed in their ears:Milk her for anything. Every detail, every slip-up. Don’t leave without her.

Now Dorian was on Celine’s first hand. Harper leaned forward casually, voice sweet but deliberate. “So, that security standing outside your door? You the president’s daughter or something?”

Celine rolled her eyes dramatically, exhaling like the very thought exhausted her. “Please. Nah, they’re my grandfather’s goons. He insists they follow me everywhere like I’m some damn princess. I could be going to the corner store and they’re right there.” She scoffed and snatched another shot of Don Julio. “Can’t breathe without one of them staring down my back.”

“You sure you don’t want a shot?” she asked, holding the bottle out to Harper with a lazy grin.

Harpershookherheadwithapolitesmile,maskingthefactshe couldoutdrink everyone in the room. “Nah, I don’t drink.”

Celine’s eyes widened. “You getting through college sober? Girl, couldn’t be me. If it’s not the two dickheads outside my door, it’s my family blowing up my phone, or these damn professors acting like their class is the only one that matters. Shit, I need three drinks just to survive the week.”

Good. Let her keep drinking,Harper thought. The looser her lips got, the better their chances of finding a crack in her armor.

“So who’s your grandfather, exactly?” Harper pressed, watching Celine closely. “You talk about your family like they’re the evil stepmother and you’re Cinderella.”

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