𝑺𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 . . . original character

010. 𝑮rief

                                     [chapter 10]

as the group left the police station, the chill of the night air did little to soothe the turmoil raging within them. they climbed into noah's suv in silence, each of them wrapped in their own thoughts and emotions. it was lottie who finally broke the quiet, her voice trembling slightly.

"so... what do we do now?"

everyone glanced around, avoiding each other's eyes. finally, clara spoke up, her tone brittle yet determined. "we figure this out. we don't just let this go. jasper wouldn't want that."

noah nodded, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. "but we need a real plan this time—something that doesn't end with us at another dead end... or worse."

bridget leaned forward from the back seat, her voice thick with frustration. "we keep thinking we're one step ahead of ghostface, but somehow he's always there, waiting for us. maybe... maybe we're being played."

"what do you mean?" carlos asked, narrowing his eyes.

"i mean," bridget hesitated, looking around at each of them, "we're all suspects, aren't we? we're looking at the killer like they're outside our group, but what if they're closer than we think?"

the words hung in the air, each of them digesting the heavy implication. selena shifted uncomfortably, her gaze hardening.

"let's not go around accusing each other," she snapped. "that's exactly what he wants. to turn us against each other until we're so paranoid we can't even trust our own friends."

"and what if it's working?" clara shot back, her voice wavering. "i mean, every time we try to get answers, someone gets hurt. jasper's gone, and the rest of us... we're not far behind if we keep going like this."

noah sighed, resting his head back against the seat, clearly exhausted. "enough. we're all in this together, and we can't start tearing each other apart. but bridget's right. we need to be careful, and we need to be smart."

they drove in silence for a while, the weight of their suspicions lingering, until they finally reached clara's house. clara's mom was out of town, so it was just the six of them left to face the night alone. the house, usually a place of comfort, now felt ominous under the weight of what they'd been through.

as they sat in clara's living room, an uneasy silence settled over them. they were supposed to be a team, a group of friends bonded through years of memories and trust. but that trust felt fragile now, chipped away by the horrors they'd faced.

finally, lottie whispered, "what if... what if this really is one of us?"

the room went still. carlos shook his head immediately, scoffing. "that's ridiculous."

"is it?" bridget replied, her tone sharp. "how else can you explain how ghostface always seems to know where we are, what we're planning? it's like he's always one step ahead."