Two lives.

26. The Cost of Silence

Sienna's POV

May 23rd
4:32 PM

Me, Ophelia, Caylus, Skin, Andi, and Colby made our way to the old gym. It was tucked into the farthest corner of the bottom floor, a place no one really went anymore unless they were trying to hide—or had a death wish for their allergies.

The moment we pushed open the heavy double doors, the scent hit me: a weird mix of old books, stale wood, and something faintly metallic. Dust hung in the air, catching the muted sunlight spilling through the narrow windows near the ceiling.

Caylus waved a hand in front of his face, grimacing. "Ugh. Why does it smell like a dusty ass library in here? Whose idea was this again?" He stepped carefully around the towers of dusty boxes stacked near the entrance, like the floor might cave in under his sneakers.

"Ekko texted me," I said, weaving through the maze of clutter as I glanced at my phone. "He said he needed help, but didn't say with what."

Ophelia let out a low hum, brushing her hand along one of the boxes as she walked. "That's vague, even for Ekko. What kind of 'help' are we talking here? Like homework help or... body disposal help?"

"Maybe both?" Skin chimed in, smirking as he hopped over a toppled chair.

"Not funny, Skin," I said, glancing over my shoulder at him. My voice sounded sharper than I intended, but I was already on edge. Something about Ekko's text felt off. He wasn't one to ask for help—not directly, anyway.

Colby stayed silent, as usual, trailing at the back of the group. He kept his head down, his gaze flicking to every shadowy corner like he was expecting something—or someone—to jump out.

"Seriously, though," Andi said, stepping carefully over a loose plank. "Why here? It's creepy as hell. Couldn't he have asked for help somewhere normal, like the library or literally anywhere else?"

I didn't answer. My chest felt tight as we moved deeper into the gym, past the faded basketball court lines and broken equipment shoved against the walls. Ekko's text had been short—just a couple of words and his location. But something about it stuck with me, a sinking feeling I couldn't shake.

As we rounded a stack of old mats, I spotted him.

He was sitting on the floor near the far wall, his back against a metal cabinet. At first, I thought he was just slouched, tired maybe, but as we got closer, I saw the way he held his arm tightly against his chest. Blood seeped through his fingers, staining the edge of his hoodie.

"Oh my God—Ekko!" My voice came out louder than I meant, and I broke into a run, the others scrambling to keep up.

Ekko's head lifted slightly, his eyes half-lidded. "Took you long enough," he muttered, his voice slurred but laced with his usual sarcasm.

"What happened?" I crouched in front of him, my hands hovering uselessly, unsure where to start.

"Don't freak out," he said, wincing as he adjusted his grip on his arm. "It's not as bad as it looks."

"Not as bad as it—Ekko, you're bleeding everywhere!" I shot back, my heart racing.

Ophelia knelt beside me, her face pale. "Did you cut yourself? What were you even doing?"

Ekko didn't answer right away, his gaze shifting to the floor. That was all the confirmation I needed.

Caylus spoke from behind me, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "Should we call the nurse or...?"

"No nurse," Ekko snapped, his voice sharper now. "I'm fine. I just... I messed up. That's all."

"Messed up?" I repeated, my chest tightening even more. "What does that even mean? You don't just accidentally cut yourself this bad."