Casper's legs dragged behind him like dead weight, each step became heavier, as if the earth itself was trying to swallow him whole.
His breath came in ragged huffs, not from exertion—but from something far more complicated. Something ripping inside his chest, a guilt so raw it scraped against his bones with every heartbeat. He couldn't stop hearing them.
Their voices.
Daphne's voice—sharp with confusion, cracked with betrayal in those final moments—lingered in the hollow of his ears like a ghost refusing to leave. And Isabella's... the way she whispered his name through the trees, not in sorrow, but something far worse. Something sickeningly sweet.
Casper hadn't meant to do it. Not at all, and yet his guilt is suffocating him, he could barely breathe.
It was an accident. But that didn't matter now—everything's done and Isabella even saw it.
She had been just around the corner the time when Casper had accidentally landed a blow on Daphne.
