When nothing goes right, turn left

Pieces of a Stranger's Obsession

Veronica barely remembered leaving the café. The moment she saw her name scrawled in Smith's notes, something inside her cracked. 

She sat on her bed now, the folded paper gripped in her hands, the words "burned into her mind"

"Why is she connected?"

It wasn't just about Hilary. It wasn't just about R.T. 

Smith had been investigating "her"

Why? 

Her fingers trembled slightly as she unfolded the rest of the document. 

Fragmented notes. Scratched-out thoughts. Maps with locations crossed out. 

Dates. Timelines. "Connections."

One word appeared over and over. 

"Cape Town."

Veronica swallowed hard. Not the murder. Not the investigation. Something before.

Whatever Smith had been looking for 'it wasn't just about his death.'

It was about something that started "long before he was killed."

And somehow, "she"was in the center of it. 

She closed her eyes, trying to slow her breathing. 

She needed more. 

More records. More proof. 

And maybe—"the one person who could get her access to everything."

Her stomach twisted at the thought. 

She needed "Alex."

Veronica found Alex outside the library, hands shoved in his pockets, gaze flicking toward her like he already knew she was coming.

"I need your help."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "That's new."

Veronica exhaled sharply, pushing the paper into his hands.

"Smith wasn't just investigating the murder," she murmured. "He was investigating me."

Alex's expression shifted—the usual amusement drained, replaced by something sharp.

"Why?"

Veronica swallowed. "I don't know yet."

Alex scanned the notes, flipping through the fragmented clues. He was silent for a long moment before finally saying, "Alright."

"Alright?" she echoed, brows furrowing.

"You want answers?" Alex said, lifting his gaze. "Then we go all in."

Veronica studied him, searching for hesitation—but there was none.

He wasn't just agreeing to help.

He was committing.

"No backing out?" she asked quietly.

Alex smirked slightly—not mocking, just knowing. "Don't insult me, Carter."

And just like that, they weren't just tangled in half-truths anymore.

They were partners in whatever came next.