Zach's POV

The bookstore smelled of old paper, ink, and tension.

I stepped inside, and the air felt thick. Heavier than it should be. There was always something about a room right after something important happened. The way people shifted their weight, the flickers of breath caught in their throats, the tension crawling just beneath their skin.

This was one of those moments.

A moment I wasn’t supposed to interrupt.

I slowed my steps, reading the room.

Amina—fidgeting. Clutching a book so tightly her knuckles went white.

Rayhan—still. Too still. The kind of stillness that meant he was piecing something together.

Elias—staring, but at nothing. His fingers tapped a slow, measured rhythm against the counter.

Sophie—watching me. Watching Max.

And then—Max.

Max, standing there, hands tucked deep in his pockets, like a child caught sneaking cookies before dinner. But this wasn’t about cookies.

This was about whatever the hell I had just walked into.

I reached for a book, flipping it open like I wasn’t paying attention. Like I wasn’t already pulling the threads apart.

The silence stretched. Nobody spoke.

Unusual.

The last time this group had been this quiet, something had shattered.

Sophie was the first to move. She shifted, stepping between me and Max. Subtle. Deliberate.

I noticed. Of course, I noticed.

She greeted me, voice sharper than usual.

"Zach."

"Missed me already?" I tossed back lazily.

She didn’t smile. Not even a twitch.

Max did, though. But it was wrong. Too wide. Too forced.

That was when I felt it.

The tension wasn’t between them.

It was all on Max.

I flicked my gaze downward, and there—a small bulge in his pocket. Something tucked away. Something hidden.

Elias noticed too. He didn’t react much—he never did—but I caught the faintest flicker of annoyance in his eyes.

And that? That intrigued me.

Rayhan was the one who finally cracked.

"What’s in your pocket, Max?"

His voice wasn’t accusing. Not yet. But it was getting there.

Max’s shoulders tensed for half a second before he forced that stupid, stupid grin.

"Oh, this?" He patted his pocket, like it was nothing. "Just a letter. One that’s mine. And not meant for Amina."

Silence.

Amina stared at him.

Rayhan’s frown deepened.

Elias’s fingers stopped tapping.

And me? I smiled.

Because that? That was a lie.

Not a full lie, no. But a half-truth at best.

The kind of half-truth that meant something was missing.

I shut my book with a snap.

"You’re hiding something."

Max blinked. "What?"

"You heard me."

Amina inhaled sharply, shifting closer to Rayhan. Sophie tensed. Elias—still watching. Calculating.

Max opened his mouth—then stopped.

For a split second—just a second—panic flashed in his eyes.

I saw it.

I always see it.

Then—he did something interesting.

He laughed.

Loud. Carefree. Easy. Like this was all just a big joke.

And suddenly—he was Max again.

"Nah," he grinned, shaking his head. "You’re just paranoid, Zach."

Clever. Redirect. Flip the suspicion. Make me the unreasonable one.

I let out a slow hum, tilting my head. "Am I?"

"You always are," Max shot back, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets.

His fingers tightened around whatever was inside.

I saw that too.

I let the silence stretch, let the weight of it settle over him. I wanted to see if he’d squirm.

And he did.

Slight. Almost unnoticeable. But there.

I caught Elias’s gaze. He wasn’t watching Max anymore. He was watching me.

And he knew.

We both knew.

This wasn’t over.

Max had changed the game.

And now?

Now, it was time to figure out exactly what game we were playing.

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