A/N: This is just a background for my OC that I will explore in the future. The first chapters are going to be based on Season 6, Episode 10, and after that, Season 7, Episode 2.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Maia stood in the basement, her eyes tracing the worn cement floor, the silence pressing in on her. The room smelled faintly of damp earth, mixed with something sharper, more metallic. She was alone now—Lucas had been taken away hours ago, handcuffed and sullen, not saying a word.
It hadn't always been like this. A few days ago, she'd been at Melissa's house, arguing over something so stupid she could hardly remember what it was anymore. But it had spiraled—words like knives, cutting deeper than either of them had intended. Then, just like that, Melissa was gone. A party. A scream. Her body, broken and cold.
The cops couldn't do anything. No evidence. No witnesses. Just another senseless tragedy filed away.
But Maia couldn't file it away. She had to know. She had to make them pay.
She dug into everything—phone records, whispers from people too scared to talk, details the police had missed. That's when she found them. Peter and Lucas. Two guys who thought they could walk away from what they'd done to Melissa without consequence.
She didn't go to the cops. She couldn't. Instead, she set a trap, luring them in with a calm she barely recognized in herself. Peter was cocky, too cocky for his own good. He said something, something that cut deep, but she couldn't quite recall the words. Her mind blurred around the edges. One minute they were talking, the next Peter wasn't moving. She looked down at her hands, trembling, stained.
Lucas was different. Guilt had already chewed him up inside. He didn't even flinch when the cops came, didn't try to run or fight back. He took the blame, said he was the one who had snapped, that he had killed Peter and done... everything else. His confession fit the puzzle the police needed.
They had their criminal, and Maia? She was just the victim. A survivor of something terrible.
*Maia... hey, are you ignoring me again? Look, I'm sorry, okay?*
*Can you just pick up? Please, I hate when we fight...*
*Maia, seriously, I need to talk to you. Just call me back. *
*Fine, whatever. Just promise me we'll fix this tomorrow, okay? We always do... right?*
*Maia, I love you. I'll see you at graduation. Don't leave me hanging.*
*End of messages.*
Each message echoed in Maia's mind, each word like a shard of glass cutting deeper every time she replayed them. "I'm sorry." "We always fix this." But they hadn't. She hadn't called back. She hadn't picked up. And now Melissa was gone—forever.
Her voice, the way she said "don't leave me hanging"—how could Maia ever forget that? Melissa had needed her, and she hadn't been there. It was a weight Maia couldn't escape, no matter how much time passed, no matter what anyone said.
