Chapter 74

**(Angel’s POV)**

I woke up and felt my skin buzzing from last night. My face felt warm and I couldn’t stop myself from blushing at the memory of Thomas and me—on the porch of all places. We had been so reckless. How had we not been caught? My mind replayed the way his hands moved and how his lips felt on mine, and a shiver ran down my spine. I hadn’t expected Thomas to be that good.  

I slipped out of bed and tried to act normal, but every inch of me felt like it was humming with electricity. My thoughts raced as I wondered how Thomas, the quiet and mysterious guy I never thought I’d be close to, could make me feel that way. I caught my reflection in the mirror when I splashed cold water on my face. My cheeks were still flushed.  

Hande was rummaging through her stuff and humming to herself. She suddenly stopped and turned to me with a smirk.  

“Why are you so red this morning?” Hande asked and raised an eyebrow. “Did something... happen?”  

I froze as my heart raced again, but I forced a laugh. “What? No, nothing happened,” I said and waved her off, hoping she wouldn’t push further.  

Hande wasn’t convinced. She stepped closer and tilted her head like she was inspecting me for clues. “Come on, Angel. You’re practically glowing. You can’t fool me.”  

Before I could think of a way to change the subject, Dilara, who had been sitting quietly on her bed, looked up and said, “It’s Thomas, isn’t it?”  

My eyes widened as panic gripped me. Darn Dilara always being observant. But how the hell could she guess so perfectly?! Hande looked genuinely surprised, her jaw dropping slightly.  

“Thomas? No way. There’s no way our Angel hooked up with Thomas,” Hande said and snickered, clearly amused.  

“Thomas?!” Cylan scoffed from her corner of the room. “Nah, I always thought he was into guys. Have you seen the way he acts around Hendrix? Always looking like he’s about to punch him or kiss him.”  

The room erupted into laughter, with Charlotte nodding along. Her French accent was thick as she added, “Oui, Thomas et Hendrix... zey always fight like lovers, non?”  

I laughed nervously with them, but inside my stomach flipped. They had no idea how right Dilara was, and the thought of anyone finding out made my pulse quicken.  

When the girls finally headed out, still chatting and teasing me about something else, I was left alone in the room. I sat on the edge of my bed and tried to shake off the uneasy feeling that troubled me.  

Then it hit me. The journal.  

I scrambled to lift my mattress and checked the spot where I had been hiding it ever since Hendrix and I stole it from the West Wing. My heart sank into my stomach. The journal wasn’t there.  

I tossed my pillow aside and checked under the bed frame, flipping everything over. It was gone.  

I sat back on my heels, breathless. My mind raced as I tried to figure out where it could have gone. There was only one person who would dare take it—*Ava*. She had done it once before, and she wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. But I had no proof. I couldn’t accuse her without evidence, and if I confronted her, she’d know I was onto her.  

Losing that journal felt like a huge loss. That journal held all the damning evidence about the center’s twisted operations—Hendrix’s fake illness, the surgeries, and Dr. Joe’s dark experiments. If it got into the wrong hands, we were all in trouble.  

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. I couldn’t let the others know—not yet. Not until I figured out what Ava was up to and how to get the journal back.  

**•••**

**(Ava’s POV)**

Breakfast blurred into noise around me, but I barely paid attention. My mind kept circling back to the journal and the mission I had been tasked with. I always knew what was expected of me, but lately, the lines between right and wrong had started to blur. Dr. Joe was evil, and I had done things I wasn’t proud of. Things I swore I’d never do. But it was all for my family, for my mom. I had to pay off her debt. There was no other choice.  

As I sat in the cafeteria and pushed my food around on my plate, I could hear my friends talking, but their voices felt far away. They laughed and joked, but I was miles away from them. They had no idea what was going on in my head. They had no idea what I was doing to survive in this place.  

I glanced over at Angel’s table. She was sitting with her group and looked as clueless as ever. I wondered if she had noticed yet. I wondered if she had figured out that the journal was missing. A small part of me almost hoped she had, just to see the panic on her face. But I couldn’t think like that. Not when I had so much at stake.  

One of my friends nudged me and pulled me out of my thoughts. “Ava, you okay? You’ve barely touched your food.”  

I nodded and forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”  

But I wasn’t fine. I hadn’t been fine in a long time.  

As I sat there, I kept my gaze fixed on Angel, waiting for the moment she realized what had been taken from her. Waiting for the moment when everything fell apart.  

**•••**

**(Ava's POV)**

The journal felt heavier than it should as I clutched it to my chest and my palms grew damp with sweat. I had done it. The little idiot thought hiding it under her mattress was clever, but Angel didn’t understand the rules of this place—not like I did. Not like I had been forced to.  

I made my way to the rendezvous point and my heart pounded with every step. The corridor was dim and the flickering lights made everything feel eerie. I hated how familiar this path had become. I shouldn’t have had to do this, but Dr. Joe… Dr. Joe never gave me a choice.  

When I handed over the journal to the person waiting in the darkness, I felt nauseous. It was done. I had sealed another piece of Angel’s fate, but more than that, I had cemented my own.  

**•**

**(Flashback)**

“You’ll do as I say or your mother’s debt becomes your burden.” Dr. Joe’s words echoed in my mind like a twisted mantra.  

I was fifteen when I realized what kind of man he was. My mother had always been a fighter, but even the strongest people had their weaknesses. For her, it was gambling. One bad choice turned into a cycle of desperation and when the debts piled up, she turned to him for help.  

“Don’t worry, Ava,” she had said as her voice trembled while she signed the papers. “It’s just a temporary fix. We’ll figure it out.”  

But we never did.  

The day Dr. Joe came to our house was the day I stopped being a child. He wasn’t angry or loud. He didn’t threaten. He didn’t need to. “Your mother owes me and now, so do you.” His blue eyes were calm and calculating.  

“You’ll work it off,” he had said and I had no choice but to nod.  

At first, it was small tasks—keeping tabs on people and reporting back. But then the requests became darker and more personal. Like now.  

**•**

I shook off the memory as I walked back to the cafeteria and plastered on my usual smirk. The girls in my dorm laughed at something ridiculous, but I didn’t even hear it. My mind was too loud. The lines had become so blurry that I no longer knew where Dr. Joe’s demands ended and my choices began.  

**•••**

**(Angel's POV)**

Hendrix had been avoiding me. At first, I thought I was imagining it, but now it was painfully obvious. He was quiet during meals, distant in the hallways, and every time I tried to talk to him, he brushed me off.  

It hurt more than I wanted to admit. After everything—after all the stolen moments and the confessions—I thought we were finally on the same page. But now? It felt like we were strangers again.  

I pushed the thought aside as I headed to the lounge. Thomas waited for me, his warm smile immediately putting me at ease. “Hey, you,” he said and his voice was light but carried something deeper.  

“Hey,” I replied as I sat down next to him on the worn-out couch.  

For a moment, we just sat there and the silence between us felt oddly comforting. But then he leaned in and brushed a strand of hair from my face. “You okay? You seem… distracted.”  

I hesitated because I wasn’t sure how to put everything into words. “I’m fine. Just… a lot on my mind.”  

“Want to talk about it?” he asked and his tone was genuine. I found myself softening under his gaze.  

As we talked, I realized how much Thomas had become very important in my life. He listened in a way that felt rare, like he actually cared about what I had to say. His kindness disarmed me and I couldn’t help but remember the night on the porch, the way he made me feel things I wasn’t ready to admit.  

“You’re staring,” he teased and broke me out of my thoughts.  

“I’m not!” I protested and my cheeks heated up.  

He chuckled and the sound was warm and easy. “Sure, you’re not.”  

The conversation shifted to lighter topics—his favorite movies and the dog from that night—but the pressure of everything lingered in the back of my mind. When he reached out to take my hand, I didn’t pull away.  

“You don’t have to go through all of this alone, you know,” he said softly and his thumb brushed over my knuckles.  

“I know,” I whispered as my heart pounded in my chest.  

And for the first time in weeks, I felt like that was true.