A soft glow lit the dark room from a cracked laptop screen.No security monitors. No flickering cameras.Just a quiet hum, fingers tapping lightly on the keyboard.
love_peace scrolled through a private chat, their eyes sharp, scanning every word Pearl and Vansh had exchanged online. A trace here, a hesitation there — pieces falling into place.
They didn't need to be in the same room to know what was happening. The digital trail was clear.
Pearl's name flashed across the screen. Memories reawakened. Questions stirring.
love_peace paused, fingers hovering above the keys.
"You think you're safe?" they typed, sending a message from a hidden account.
"Truth hides in plain sight. Watch carefully, Pearl. You're closer than you realize."
The message vanished before Pearl could even see it.
They smiled to themselves, folding their hands.
No need for dramatics. No masks. Just patience and the quiet power of watching.
Because in this game, silence was the sharpest weapon.
Pearl sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor, a faded photo album open in her lap. The yellowed pictures felt heavier than they should—like memories trapped behind the gloss and dust.
Her fingers traced a worn image of her parents, smiling, years before everything fell apart.
But it wasn't the smiles that caught her eye. It was a folded scrap of paper tucked behind the photo.
She pulled it out carefully, unfolding the crumpled note. The handwriting was shaky, hurried:
"Watch the shadows. The past isn't what you think."
Her heart thudded.
A sudden ping from her phone startled her. A new message, from an unknown number:
"You're looking too close. Stop before you get burned." — love_peace
Pearl's breath caught, but her eyes sharpened. She wasn't backing down.
There was something in the note—and in the warning—that felt like a challenge.
She flipped back through the album, searching for anything else that didn't fit. Then, tucked between two pages, a photo slid out—a grainy picture of a boy standing under a tree line. The same silhouette she remembered from the night of the fire.
Her fingers trembled as she stared.
She whispered to the empty room:
"Who are you?"
Three dots appeared almost instantly.Typing.
Then gone.
Then back again.
Her chest tightened, but she didn't let herself look away.
Another message arrived:
"Clever. But curiosity comes at a cost, Pearl."
She didn't hesitate this time.
"I'm done being scared of shadows. So if you know something, say it. Or stop wasting my time."
Nothing.
Seconds passed.
Then—
"You've already seen the truth. You just don't recognize it yet.""Ask him what happened the night your house burned."
Pearl's throat went dry.
Before she could type another word, the chat disappeared.
Deleted.
Gone.
As if it had never been there at all.
She stared at her phone, heart racing.
Then she looked down at the photo again.That silhouette. That boy. That night.
Her voice was barely a whisper:
"What did you do, Vansh?"