Void (The Youngest, Book 3.B.)

Chapter 六 (B)

Kylie was playing with a red string on Stiles' bed, her small fingers winding it around like it was a toy. She was quiet, watching the string spin as Stiles worked nearby, meticulously arranging the pieces of his investigation. He was building a board in his room, something similar to the one in his dad's office. Seeing how it helped his dad during the whole situation with Malia had inspired him. If it worked then, maybe it could help now with finding Barrow.

Meanwhile, Lydia was pacing the room, her eyes flicking between the red string in Kylie's hands and the chaotic wall Stiles was piecing together.

She turned to examine the board with its tangled web of colored yarn stretching from picture to picture. There were multiple balls of different-colored yarn beside her, looking like a strange mix between an art project and a detective's nightmare.

"What do the different colored strings mean?" Lydia asked, her curiosity piqued as she examined the patterns on the wall.

Stiles paused, glancing over his shoulder at her question. "Oh, just different stages of the investigation," he said. He pointed at each color as he explained. "So, green is 'solved.' Yellow is 'to be determined.' Blue is just... pretty." He gave a small shrug, dismissing that last bit.

Lydia arched an eyebrow. "And what does red mean?" she asked.

Stiles sighed, his eyes narrowing at the red lines that crisscrossed the board like scars. "Unsolved," he muttered, a hint of frustration in his voice.

Lydia's eyes moved from the strings to Stiles. "You only have red on the board," she said, her voice soft, but there was a hint of concern behind it.

Stiles gave her a wry smile. "Yes, I'm aware, thank you," he said, giving her a pointed look before focusing back on his notes.

Kylie, seemingly unbothered by the tension, held up the red string she was playing with, her eyes wide with a simple observation. "Red's pretty too," she said. She watched the light catch on the fibers, then wrapped it carefully around her finger, almost like she was creating a ring.

Stiles glanced at her, his expression softening. "Yeah, kid, red's pretty too," he said, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

Lydia, looking to distract herself, nodded toward Stiles. "Did you get detention for pulling the alarm?" she asked, though she already knew the answer. Of course he did—pulling the fire alarm without an actual fire was always going to get him in trouble.

"Yep, every day this week," Stiles replied without a trace of regret. "It's okay though, 'cause we were onto something."

"Even though we couldn't find any proof of Barrow being there," Lydia pointed out, her voice laced with doubt.

Stiles looked at her, frowning slightly. He could sense her hesitation. Lydia always had these instincts—instincts that had saved them before. Seeing her doubt herself now, especially after all they'd been through, it didn't sit right with him.

"Hey, Lydia," he said, moving closer to her, bending down a bit so that he could meet her eyes directly. "You've been right every time something like this has happened. Okay? So don't start doubting yourself now."

But Lydia couldn't help it. The buzzing sound, her certainty that something was wrong—it had all led to nothing. "No scent. No bomb. And I got you in trouble," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Stiles wouldn't hear it. "Look, Barrow was there. You knew it. You felt it. Okay?" He spoke earnestly, his voice steady and reassuring. "And if you wanted to, I'd go back to that school right now and search all night just to prove it."

Lydia's lips curved into a soft smile, a warmth spreading through her chest at his words. Stiles always had a way of being relentless, of not giving up on people, even when they were ready to give up on themselves. He played absentmindedly with the marker in his hand, pulling off the cap to jot down some notes.