Lena's pov
We stood outside the dorm, the night air cool against my skin, but inside I felt like I was burning up with anxiety. Ethan's hand still held mine, steady and warm, but my mind was spinning too fast to find peace.
As we walked slowly toward the dorm entrance, I tried to keep my expression light, but I couldn't hide everything.
Ethan's eyes flicked down to my wrist.
"Lena…" His voice softened, "what happened here?"
He pointed to the faint, darkening bruise curling around my wrist.
I pulled my sleeve down quickly, heart thudding wildly. "It's nothing. Just… bumped into a door or something."
He didn't look convinced. His brow furrowed, concern deepening.
"Are you sure? You look shaken."
I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling the weight of his gaze.
"I'm fine," I said, forcing a smile. "Really."
But inside, the lie tasted bitter.
I wanted to tell him so much — that tonight wasn't just a party, that I was in danger, that everything was on the line.
But how do you explain a life of secrets to someone you're supposed to trust, but can't?
Ethan squeezed my hand gently.
"If you ever need to talk, I'm here."
His words should have comforted me, but all I could do was nod, reminding myself again: This is just a mission. Keep the truth hidden. Keep him safe.
Because if he knew, it would put him in the crossfire too.
And I couldn't let that happen.