Keifer POV
The words were out before I could stop them.
"I used you. And the whole Section E knows it."
I watched her face fall — not like a collapse, but like something inside her had been quietly pulled apart. No screaming. No fight. Just silence.
And that was worse.
She didn't say anything at first. Just blinked. Like she was waiting for someone to yell gotcha! or laugh or say it was all a joke.
But no one did.
Cin was crying. Mouthing sorry like it was a spell that could undo everything.
JayJay looked at me like I was a stranger. Like the version of me she thought she knew had never existed.
And I hated myself.
Because I knew what she was feeling — that hollow, gut-sick ache of betrayal. I'd felt it before. From my father. From my stepmother. From every adult who said they'd protect me and didn't.
And now I'd made her feel it too.
I told myself it was necessary.
That if she knew the truth — if she knew how dangerous my world was, how broken I really was — she'd try to fix it. She'd get close. She'd get hurt.
She'd bleed.
So I gave her a reason to walk away.
I gave her the villain.
I gave her me.
But after I said it — after I saw her sit in the cold seat by the door, trying not to cry, trying not to look at anyone — I felt it.
The cost.
It wasn't just guilt.
It was grief.
Because I hadn't just broken her.
I'd broken something between us.
Something fragile. Something real.
And I couldn't take it back.
I wanted to tell her everything. That the plan started as revenge but changed. That Section E used to hate her but now called her Mutya. That I used to see her as a pawn but now saw her as the only person who made me feel like I wasn't drowning.
But I didn't.
Because I thought she'd meddle.
Because I thought she'd try to help.
Because I thought she'd walk into my family's mess — into the trauma I buried, into the house where Keigan and Keiren still flinch at loud noises — and she'd get hurt.
And I couldn't let that happen.
So I stayed silent.
And I watched her cry.
And I told myself it was for the best.
Even though it felt like the worst thing I'd ever done.
She was gone.
Not just from Section E.
From me.
After I told her the plan — after I watched her break in front of everyone — she disappeared. No texts. No calls. No hallway glances. Just silence.
We all went to the Fernandez's house