Chapter 28
Andrea sat cross-legged on her bed, flipping through her notebook absentmindedly while Sophie rambled on from her desk. The evening was quiet, the kind of calm Andrea usually craved after the chaos of the Sinclair brothers and the endless intrigue at Blackthorn.
“Honestly, I think the whole thing with the lipstick on the mirror was so cliché,” Sophie said, laughing lightly as she swiveled her chair to face Andrea.
Andrea tensed, her pen pausing mid-note. “Lipstick?” she asked casually, glancing up.
Sophie nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah. I mean, it’s like something out of a bad movie. Whoever wrote that message really has no originality.”
Andrea forced a laugh, her heart pounding. She hadn’t told Sophie that the mirror message was written in lipstick.
“You’re right,” Andrea said, keeping her voice even. “Super dramatic.”
Sophie smirked. “At least they’re consistent, right?”
Andrea nodded, her mind racing. She flipped her notebook shut, standing and moving toward her desk as if searching for something. Her thoughts churned furiously. How does Sophie know?
The details clicked together like jagged puzzle pieces. Sophie had always been there—supporting her, comforting her, and somehow, always knowing just enough to stay ahead of the threats. But now that Andrea thought about it, Sophie had also been there when the threats were discovered. The notes in her locker. The attacks during events. Even the lipstick message.
It was her. It’s been her all along.
Andrea clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms to steady herself. She had to stay calm, had to think. “Hey, Soph,” she said, keeping her tone light. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” Sophie said, spinning her chair back toward her laptop.
Andrea leaned against her desk, watching Sophie carefully. “Do you ever feel like… I don’t know, someone at Blackthorn is trying too hard to get rid of me?”
Sophie paused, her fingers hovering over her keyboard. Then she laughed. “Well, yeah. I mean, it’s pretty obvious at this point, isn’t it?”
Andrea tilted her head, her voice sharpening slightly. “I mean, it’s almost like they know exactly where I’ll be. Like they’re always one step ahead.”
Sophie’s hand twitched slightly, a movement so small Andrea almost missed it.
“Lucky guesses, I guess,” Sophie said, shrugging.
Andrea’s stomach churned. “Yeah, lucky,” she said softly.
That night, Andrea couldn’t sleep. She stared at the ceiling, her thoughts looping endlessly.
She thought about Sophie’s concerned face when the first threats appeared. Her protective hugs, her insistence on sticking close at the party. Her oddly specific knowledge of things Andrea hadn’t shared.
The truth felt like a punch to the gut. Sophie wasn’t her ally—she was her enemy.
The next evening, Andrea decided to test her theory. She mentioned casually during dinner that she planned to visit the library later, watching Sophie’s reaction carefully.
“Oh, do you want me to come with you?” Sophie asked, her tone bright and innocent.
Andrea shook her head. “No, I think I’ll be fine.”
Sophie hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. “Okay, but text me if you need anything.”
Andrea forced a smile. “Of course.”
When Andrea returned to their room that night, she found Sophie pacing, her usual calm demeanor replaced with something jittery and on edge.
“Everything okay?” Andrea asked, leaning casually against the doorframe.
Sophie looked up, her smile faltering. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”
Andrea crossed her arms. “I don’t know. You seem… nervous.”
Sophie let out a short laugh, brushing her hair back. “Just stressed, I guess. Blackthorn can do that to you.”
Andrea stepped further into the room, her voice dropping. “You know, Soph, I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About everything that’s happened.”
Sophie stiffened slightly, her back to Andrea. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” Andrea said, her tone sharpening. “And the more I think about it, the more things don’t add up. Like how you always seem to know so much about what’s going on. Even things I’ve never told you.”
Sophie froze, her hand gripping the edge of the desk. Slowly, she turned to face Andrea, her innocent mask cracking.
“Andrea,” she said, her voice laced with something darker, “you sound paranoid.”
Andrea’s blood ran cold. “Am I?”
For a moment, Sophie didn’t respond. Then, her lips curled into a smile—sharp, predatory, and entirely unlike the Sophie Andrea thought she knew.
“You really are smarter than I gave you credit for,” Sophie said, her tone dripping with mock admiration.
Andrea’s heart pounded. “So it’s true. You’re behind all of it.”
Sophie laughed, a sound that sent chills down Andrea’s spine. “What can I say? You make it so easy. Always running around, sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. Someone had to teach you a lesson.”
Andrea’s fists clenched. “Why? Why go through all this?”
“Because you don’t belong here,” Sophie said, her voice hardening. “Blackthorn isn’t for people like you. It’s for people like me.”
Andrea stepped forward, her anger boiling over. “You don’t get to decide that.”
Sophie’s smile faded, her eyes narrowing. “No, but I can make your life miserable enough that you’ll decide for yourself.”
Before Andrea could respond, Sophie let out a piercing scream, throwing herself backward into the wall.
Andrea froze, horrified, as Sophie grabbed a sharp letter opener from the desk and dragged it across her arm just enough to draw blood.
“Help!” Sophie screamed, staggering toward the door. “Andrea’s gone crazy!”
