Chapter 24: Let the Truths Begin
Hannah stepped out into the corridor, her aura composed but eyes alert. The late afternoon sun streamed through the large glass windows, casting golden rays onto the tiled floor. Her gaze drifted to the garden outside, where trimmed hedges framed a stone fountain. Something about the day felt off—like a thread had just begun to unravel.
She picked up her phone with her left hand and dialed a number she hadn't used in months. It rang twice.
"Hello?" A man's voice crackled through the line.
Hannah's face broke into a relieved smile. "Hi! Oh my God, thank you for picking up." She laughed lightly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "It's Hannah—you fixed my pink Bentley earlier this year. I'm supposed to pick up my mom from work, but my car won't start again, and I'm worried it's the same thing."
"Yeah, I remember. Last time, someone had pulled out your spark plug. That's why it wouldn't start."
Hannah's heart skipped. Her fingers tightened around the phone. "Wait—what? Why would someone do that? Are those worth something?"
"Not really. Maybe twenty bucks. Sounds more like someone was messing with you."
The guy chuckled. "You got a jealous ex-boyfriend who knows how to work a wrench?"
A slow chill swept through Hannah's body. She looked toward her car parked in the driveway. Someone did mess with her. She thought back to camp—how her car suddenly died. She thought it was Marble. But now?
"Something like that," she muttered, more to herself than the caller.
She hung up, thoughts spinning. There was only one person who might know the real answer. Not Marble—the girl she once falsely accused of drug use at summer camp. No. This time, Hannah needed the truth from someone who'd seen everything firsthand.
She found herself at the gates of a rehab center—massive, pristine, almost too perfect. She walked through the entrance like she owned the place, her high ponytail bouncing with each step. Her crop top and miniskirt contrasted sharply against the residents' light blue shirts and baggy jeans.
She took a seat in the lobby, crossing one leg over the other. Her phone buzzed, but she ignored it.
Moments later, Marble walked into the hall. Her eyes flared at the sight of Hannah. A rush of painful memories surfaced—of being falsely accused, losing her tennis scholarship, getting kicked out of scout camp.
Hannah didn't notice her at first. Marble clenched her jaw.
"Hannah."
The sound of her name made Hannah look up. Her smile was polite but tight. She stood slowly. "Marble. Wow, hi. How are you, girl?"
Marble scoffed. "I got kicked out of tennis camp, lost my scholarship to Scoutland, and actually developed a cocaine problem. So, peachy."
Hannah blinked, genuinely speechless. "Oh no..."
"What are you doing here?" Marble asked coldly.
"I came to see a friend."
Marble stepped closer, folding her arms. "I'm glad I saw you, honestly." She reached out—Hannah flinched slightly—only to feel Marble touch the crystal earring dangling from her lobe.
Hannah blinked twice. "Uh… thanks."
Just then, a woman entered. "She's waiting for you downstairs," she said to Hannah.
Hannah nodded, gently freeing herself from Marble's hand. "Marble, it's good to see you. Really." She leaned in and whispered, "Hang in there, okay?"
As she turned and left, Marble quickly snapped a photo of her retreating figure.
The woman beside Marble sighed. "Please return to craft time."
Marble gritted her teeth. "I'm coming."
—
Hannah descended the stairs into a sunlit garden. People milled about in uniform, some painting, others raking leaves, and at the far end, one person practiced a careful golf swing.
Priea.
The same green eyes, the same composed posture—though time had softened her a little.
Hannah walked up, high heels clicking on the stone path. "I want to talk to you about Stephen."
Priea looked up, lips parting slightly in surprise. Without a word, she motioned toward a shaded table.
They sat. A waitress brought iced tea and a plate of snacks. Hannah barely noticed.
"How do I even start this?" Priea sighed, picking at her napkin. "She's been avoiding me all day. Almost didn't recognize her."
Hannah sipped from her drink, trying to remain calm. "She definitely remembers you."
Priea gave a small, wistful smile. "Hard to forget your first crush."
Hannah stared. "Crush?"
Priea nodded. "She was my girlfriend. Back when she went by Nabi."
The name hit Hannah like a slap. "Nabi?"
Priea met her eyes. "She had the nose job. Changed her name. But she's still the same person underneath."
Hannah's mind reeled. "She told me you started rumors about her—that she kissed you, and it ruined her life."
Priea looked stunned. "She said I started the rumor?"
Hannah nodded slowly.
"That's so twisted. First, she blamed me. Second—you didn't call BS right away?"
"Why would I?" Hannah asked, confused.
Priea leaned forward, brow furrowed. "Because you're the one who started the rumor, Hannah."
Hannah set her drink down, heartbeat spiking. "What?"
"Stephen is Nabi Cluster. From day camp. Nosey Nabi."
The nickname dropped like a lead weight in Hannah's chest.
"She came out to me and I…" Hannah's voice trailed off.
Memories began crashing back—of how she mocked Nabi, turned her confession into gossip, how she was the one who said Nabi pulled her in for a kiss. Hannah had made her a predator in front of everyone.
Her hands shook slightly. "I didn't just hurt her… I destroyed her."
Back in the present, Hannah slowly took another sip from her drink, trying to hold herself together.
And in her heart, something fractured. But maybe—just maybe—it was the first step toward healing.