The abandoned science building sat at the far edge of Westview High’s campus, half-hidden behind overgrown hedges and rusted fencing.
Most students avoided it.
Not because it was officially off-limits—though technically it was—but because of the rumors.
Because of what had happened there a year ago.
Zoe Collins had fallen from the rooftop of this building.
Official reports said she jumped.
Students whispered she had been pushed.
Chloe Bennett stood at the edge of the cracked concrete walkway, staring up at the dark windows of the building.
Her heart beat fast.
The campus was quiet now. Late afternoon sunlight stretched long shadows across the empty parking lot.
Everyone else had gone home.
Everyone except her.
Her fingers tightened around the folded note Jasper had given her the day before.
The night Zoe died—Tristan and Luna were both on the roof.
The words echoed in her head.
If the truth was hidden anywhere…
It would be here.
Chloe slipped through the gap in the chain-link fence and approached the side entrance.
The door wasn’t locked.
It creaked loudly as she pushed it open.
Dust hung in the air, glowing faintly in the shafts of sunlight pouring through broken windows. The building smelled like old books and mildew.
Her footsteps echoed down the empty hallway.
For a moment she hesitated.
This place felt… wrong.
Like the air itself remembered something terrible.
But she forced herself forward.
Because Zoe Collins had died here.
And Chloe needed to know why.
The stairwell door to the roof was still intact, though the paint had peeled away in patches.
Chloe grabbed the handle.
Paused.
Then pushed it open.
Cold wind hit her face immediately.
The rooftop stretched wide and empty beneath a fading sky. The low cement wall surrounding the edge looked exactly like the photos she’d seen online after Zoe’s death.
Police tape once wrapped around it.
Now only faded fragments remained.
Chloe walked slowly toward the center of the roof.
Her shoes scraped lightly against gravel.
This was where Zoe had stood.
Where she had fallen.
Or been pushed.
Chloe’s chest tightened.
Her eyes scanned the ground carefully.
Most of the roof was bare.
Just dirt. Dust. Broken pieces of roofing tile.
Then something caught the light.
Near the base of the wall.
Chloe crouched down.
Her breath caught.
It was a ring.
Simple silver.
Identical to the one she had seen fall from Tristan’s pocket the night of the party.
Her fingers trembled as she picked it up.
Inside the band, tiny letters were engraved.
Z.C.
Zoe Collins.
Chloe’s mind spun.
Why would there be two rings?
Had Tristan dropped one here the night Zoe died?
Or—
Her thoughts were interrupted by something else.
A small scrap of paper half-stuck under a loose tile nearby.
Chloe carefully pulled it free.
The paper had been torn into several jagged pieces.
Someone had tried to destroy it.
Her pulse quickened as she laid the fragments on the ground and slowly pieced them together.
The handwriting was messy but readable.
“Zoe found out about our secret.”
“She said she would expose everything.”
“We have to stop her.”
Below the message were two signatures.
One read Tristan.
The other—
Luna.
Chloe stared at the words.
Her stomach dropped.
Had they… planned something?
Before she could process the thought, another name appeared on the final fragment.
A surname she didn’t recognize.
—Hargrove
Who was Hargrove?
Chloe folded the paper pieces carefully and slipped them into her jacket pocket.
Her head spun with questions.
But one thing was certain.
Tristan and Luna had been involved in something with Zoe.
Something serious enough that Zoe threatened to expose them.
And now Zoe was dead.
A sudden gust of wind rattled the rooftop door behind her.
Chloe jumped.
Her nerves were on edge.
She shoved the ring into her pocket and hurried toward the stairwell.
Time to get answers.
The Garcia house sat on a quiet suburban street lined with palm trees.
Chloe parked across the street and stared at the familiar front door.
She had been here hundreds of times.
Sleepovers.
Birthday parties.
Movie nights.
Luna had been her best friend since third grade.
The thought made Chloe’s chest ache.
But she forced herself out of the car and walked up the driveway.
The door opened before she could knock.
Luna stood there.
Like she had been waiting.
“Chloe?” she said softly.
Her expression looked surprised—but her eyes flicked quickly down to Chloe’s hands.
Checking.
Calculating.
“We need to talk,” Chloe said.
Luna hesitated.
Then stepped aside.
“Come in.”
The living room smelled faintly of vanilla candles. Everything looked neat and ordinary.
Too ordinary.
Chloe didn’t sit.
Instead she pulled the folded paper from her pocket and placed it on the coffee table.
Luna’s face went still.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“You tell me.”
Luna unfolded the paper slowly.
As she read the message, the color drained from her face.
“I don’t know what this is,” she said immediately.
Chloe’s patience snapped.
“Stop lying!”
The words burst out before she could stop them.
Luna flinched.
“You and Tristan were on the roof the night Zoe died,” Chloe continued.
“I found this where she fell.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“And the ring?” Chloe demanded.
“What ring?”
Chloe pulled it from her pocket and dropped it on the table.
The metal clink echoed in the quiet room.
Luna stared at it.
Her hands began to shake.
“Where did you get that?”
“On the roof.”
Silence filled the room.