Chapter 5: A Spark Ignites

The morning after the confrontation in the art club, the entire school seemed to hold its breath. Amaya’s footsteps echoed in the halls with an urgency she hadn’t felt before. Her usual confidence, the easy smile that people relied on to keep the world light, was nowhere to be found.

She didn’t want to think about the argument. Didn’t want to replay the sharpness in Yasmine’s eyes when she confessed that she wasn’t supposed to care. She didn’t want to remember the hollow feeling when Yasmine’s words left a mark deeper than she’d imagined.

But she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Morning – Ridgewood High

Amaya sat in the back of the classroom, pretending to pay attention as Mr. Carr droned on about Renaissance art. The walls of the room were a blur, the colors of the paintings melding into one mass of irrelevant detail.

All she could hear was her own heartbeat.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

She stole a glance at the clock. Time seemed to stretch on and on, like it was mocking her.

Suddenly, a note was slid across the desk. It was crumpled, hastily folded. Amaya’s brow furrowed as she unfolded it.

“Meet me at the park. After school. Alone.”

- Yasmine

Amaya’s stomach twisted, and for a moment, she hesitated. Everything in her wanted to ignore it. To leave Yasmine behind like a chapter that didn’t belong in the story.

But there was something in the way the note was worded. It wasn’t a plea for forgiveness. It wasn’t an apology. It was an invitation to something else.

After School – Ridgewood Park

The park was quiet as usual—perfect for a secret meeting. The air had the crisp bite of late fall, and the golden leaves floated lazily down from the trees.

Amaya had arrived early, sitting on the worn wooden bench where she and Kai used to come. The one by the small pond that reflected the dying sun. It had been their place. Now it felt hollow.

She didn’t know what she was expecting. Some grand confession? Another argument? But Yasmine was already there, sitting on the edge of the pond with her sketchbook open, a pencil poised in her hand.

“I figured you'd come,” Yasmine said, without looking up.

Amaya crossed her arms, her voice tight. “I don’t know why I came.”

Yasmine didn’t respond right away. She turned the page in her sketchbook, the sound of the paper loud in the silence.

“You said you hated me.” Her voice was quiet, but steady.

Amaya bristled. “You took everything. You lied.”

“I didn’t lie,” Yasmine said, her voice like smoke. “I told you I was here for the mission.”

“Then why didn’t you just finish it?”

Yasmine closed her sketchbook, looking at Amaya. Her face was unreadable, but her eyes—her eyes were softer now. “Because it wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wasn’t supposed to care about anyone here. Especially not you.”

Amaya’s chest tightened, but she didn’t want to feel sympathy. She didn’t want to understand Yasmine’s hesitation. She didn’t want to give her a way out.

“But you did,” Amaya said, her voice trembling despite her efforts. “And now look at what you’ve done. Look at how you’ve torn everything apart.”

Yasmine’s gaze softened further. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Amaya looked away, angry tears threatening to spill. “But you did. And now I don’t know who to trust.”

The silence stretched between them. The world seemed to pause around the two girls, the sound of the pond’s water lapping at the shore the only thing filling the empty space.

Finally, Yasmine stood up. “I never wanted to destroy everything for you. I was just doing my job.”

Amaya stood too, shaking her head. “What if that was your job? What if you’re just supposed to be a killer?”

Yasmine’s jaw clenched. “That’s not who I am.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. But then Yasmine’s eyes softened even further, and she slowly reached for Amaya’s hand.

“I never wanted to fall for you,” Yasmine said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Amaya’s breath hitched.

“I didn’t expect it. But you… you’re different. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.”

Amaya stood frozen, caught in the weight of Yasmine’s words. She wasn’t sure what she felt anymore. Anger? Betrayal? Or something deeper?

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” Amaya said, her voice cracking. “But I’m not going to lie to myself. I’m not going to pretend like I don’t still feel something.”

Yasmine stepped closer. “I don’t expect forgiveness. I just need you to know... I never wanted to hurt you.”

Amaya took a shaky step back, her hands trembling at her sides. “I don’t know what you want from me, Yasmine. But I can’t... I can’t keep pretending nothing’s wrong.”

Yasmine closed the distance between them. “Then let’s stop pretending. We both know there’s something between us. And that something is pulling us into the same space, whether we like it or not.”

Amaya looked at her, heart pounding. “What are you asking for?”

Yasmine’s voice was soft, almost pleading. “A chance. A chance to figure this out, before I’m forced to finish what I started.”

The words hung between them like a challenge, like a countdown ticking louder with each passing second. Amaya felt her heart pound against her chest.

“I don’t know how to forgive you,” Amaya whispered, “but I’ll try. I’ll try if you promise to stop hiding behind this job.”

Yasmine’s hand reached up, brushing Amaya’s cheek lightly. “I promise.”

Yasmine’s POV – The Next Morning

That night, after Amaya left, Yasmine sat in her room, staring out at the city lights, the sketchpad abandoned beside her. The promise she’d made felt weighty, heavier than she’d ever imagined. There was no turning back now.

She didn’t know what the future held, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Amaya’s voice—her presence—was beginning to matter more than the mission. More than anything else.

But that didn’t change the fact that she had a job to do. And the clock was still ticking.

She picked up the burner phone. A message blinked on the screen.

Your target’s life is in jeopardy. You must finish the mission today.

Her fingers hesitated above the screen. The tension between duty and feeling gnawed at her.

Could she still go through with it? Could she silence the voice inside her heart that said there was something worth saving?

For the first time, she wasn’t sure.

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