The earrings were easier to take than Sofia expected—and infinitely harder to live with.
Harper had left them on the kitchen counter that morning, distracted while chatting on the phone about something work-related. Pale blue studs, delicate and simple, the kind of jewelry that looked expensive without trying. Sofia found herself staring at them for a full twenty minutes. She told herself she could just walk away. That she didn't have to do this.
But her fingers betrayed her. Shaking, she slipped them into her pencil case before she could talk herself out of it.
Harper didn't even notice they were missing that night.
Instead, she floated around the kitchen humming softly, cooking Sofia's favorite lemon chicken pasta, and chatting about a new recipe she wanted to try on the weekend.
"You up for a movie later?" Harper asked as she handed Sofia her plate.
Sofia couldn't meet her eyes. "Rain check?"
Harper smiled without disappointment. "Of course. Just let me know when you're up for it."
Sofia almost cried right then and there.
Later that night, a notification lit up her screen.
Ian: Perfect. She wore those the first day I saw her. I watched the way the light caught them when she turned her head.
Sofia's breath caught.
Watched.
Not noticed. Not saw.
Watched.
She stared at the message until her vision blurred.
Sofia: You said that was it. One thing. That was the deal.
Ian: I said start small. You should know better than to believe lies, considering how many you've told.
She nearly threw her phone across the room.
Jacob knocked gently on her door a few minutes later. "Everything okay in there?"
"Yeah. Homework," she lied.
He opened the door just a crack, enough to peek in. "You've seemed a little off lately."
"I'm just tired," she said quickly, tucking her phone under a book.
He stepped inside, ruffled her hair like when she was a little girl. "If you're worried about school, you'll be fine. You always are."
She nodded and forced a smile. Her dad was trying. More bowling nights. Random Starbucks runs. He even brought home her favorite ice cream last night.
And Harper…
Harper just kept being kind.
She'd gifted Sofia a silver chain with her birthstone last week. Left handwritten notes on her desk: Proud of you, always. A new paint set arrived on her desk out of nowhere—the same brand Sofia once casually mentioned loving months ago.
None of it felt fake. That was the worst part.
Because maybe… Harper really was trying. And maybe she didn't deserve this.
But then—
Ian: Next: keys.
Her chest tightened.
Sofia: What?!
Ian: Her work lanyard. Or the spare house key she keeps in her bag.
Sofia: Why?
Ian: To make things easier. For me. I want to see her again. Soon.
Sofia: I can't do that. I'll get caught. She'll know.
Ian: Then your father will know what you did. So will Harper. Your school. Her job. Everyone.
Ian: Tick tock, Sofia.
That night at dinner, she knocked over a glass.
The crash was loud and sharp, cutting through the quiet like a gunshot.
Jacob jumped up. "You okay?"
"I—I wasn't paying attention."
Harper silently cleaned up the glass, humming as she swept up the shards. Sofia couldn't decide if the sound was soothing or maddening.
Later, in the hallway, Jacob pulled Harper aside.
"She's… jumpy. Quiet."
Harper nodded. "I noticed. Maybe I should call Emily. See if something happened over the weekend."
Jacob hesitated. "Let's give her space. Teenagers go through stuff."
Still, Harper looked back toward Sofia's room with soft concern in her eyes. "She looked… scared."
The next day at school, Naomi cornered Sofia near the lockers.
"You're lying to me."
"What?"
"You told me it was over. That you blocked him."
Sofia looked away.
"Is he still messaging you?"
A pause. "Yes."
Naomi's voice dropped. "Sofia…"
"He sent me photos. Messages. Everything. He made me take stuff—Harper's stuff. First the scarf. Then the earrings. Now he wants her keys."
Naomi's mouth opened, then shut again. "Jesus."
"I know."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I didn't want you to look at me like you are right now."
Naomi exhaled, her jaw tight. "Like I want to slap sense into you? Or help you?"
"Both," Sofia whispered.
That night, the key stared at her.
She'd taken Harper's work bag from the hallway when Harper went upstairs to shower. Her fingers found the small zipped pocket. The spare house key was inside. Sofia's pulse thudded in her ears.
Ian: I'm waiting.
Sofia: What are you going to do with it?
Ian: Nothing dangerous. I just want to talk to her. Alone. You owe me that.
Sofia: I don't owe you anything.
Ian: You owe me everything.
The words cut deeper than she expected. A twisted echo of her own guilt.
With trembling hands, she sealed the key inside an envelope and dropped it in the mailbox down the street.
She didn't sleep that night. Her eyes stayed open, glued to the ceiling. Heart pounding. Every shadow on the wall felt like the end.
Every kindness from Harper made her flinch.
Every silence from Ian felt like a warning.
And every breath felt like borrowed time.